The Centipede's Sting
by elegant.malice
Summary: The problem with half-ghouls is that something so unstable is going to break down one day. What will be left when memories - that shape a personality - starts to disappear? When Kaneki's ghoul side starts to devour his human memories, Kaneki starts forgetting things. And people. And Touka. (Dark!Kaneki)
1. Missing link

**What this fic is going to contain: unsafe amounts of angst, significant amount of violence and bloodshed, Kaneki's heart wrenching spiral of madness and Touka trying her damn best to help him (basically an action-acked, psychological and emotional TG fic). The ghouls and humans in Anteiku will also be appearing because they're all part of the awesomeness of TG.**

**Okay, now that my arrogance has gotten over itself, this fic is honestly just a modest attempt, a hesitant step into the unknown, written out of respect towards TG for a wonderful read.**

**Many thanks and fist bumps to my beta Charlie-the-Spider for weeding out all my grammar errors and plot holes. Any remaining mistakes are mine. **

**Enjoy!**

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><p>She didn't notice the signs.<p>

At least, not at first. Maybe it was because it signified the end of this gentle soul, and the possible consequences too scary to behold so she'd shut it in a deep dark corner of her mind. Or maybe she was just a selfish person, pretending to be blind when the truth was staring at her right in the face all along.

But whatever the case was, she didn't really pick up on the changes until it was too late. There was nothing she could do now.

This was how it first began:

"What's your friend's name? The one who keeps coming here with you. Brown hair, orange and black jacket." The self-professed 'Devil Ape' asks.

With his flat face and spiky hairstyle, the similarity he shares with his nickname is becoming more apparent.

His sleeves rolled up, Kaneki is elbow deep into soapy waters where he is washing the plates. A troubled expression crosses his face, the faint brush of uncertainty.

"Hina? Hine? Hade?" He frowns. "Oh wait, it's Hide!"

Something that looks like relief flits through his eyes, too quickly to be noticed by anyone.

Enji Koma laughs and pats him on the shoulder, "Don't tell me your memory is failing you, Kaneki!"

Kaneki smiles, and doesn't reply.

"I'm older than you so surely your brain isn't rotting so quickly..." Enji teases.

"If that is true, then at least I won't have to ever remember meeting someone like you," he jokes weakly.

"You better remember me at least, Kaneki!"

"Not if I can help it. Have you looked at yourself in the mirror?"

"I did, and I must say, it's an impressive sight."

"Absolutely. Who knew anyone could look that ridiculous? You've outdone yourself."

Enji laughs boisterously, clapping him on the back.

"Either way, you're still going to remember me since I'm such a unique person. I'll take what I can!"

"It seems you're having some hearing problems since I've said it before: I can remember things just fine."

"Says the senile old man who can't remember his best friend's name."

"I don't care what you remember so long as you remember the customer's orders. Now get back to work, slackers!" Touka says sharply from the doorway, accustomed to the usual banter between the two.

When Kaneki first came to work, he was quiet and shy, only talking when he was asked a question. Enji, with his playful and open nature, constantly teased Kaneki and imagine everyone's surprise when Kaneki replied with a snarky remark one day. The look of surprise on Enji's face when he finally met his match was priceless. They have become good friends ever since, bonding over many conversations of mutual antagonism.

Exchanging grins with each other, they chorus in synchronisation, "Yes, ma'am!"

Rolling her eyes, she hides a fond smile behind her hand. "Idiots."

That was the first time and the signs were so small, she barely knew that it was one.

Yet, at that point in time, she brushed it off, ignoring the fact that Hide was practically Kaneki's only human friend. For him to have completely forgotten his name for a brief moment should send alarm bells ringing through her head.

The fact that it doesn't makes it worse.

* * *

><p>His lapses became more frequent and he'd smiled and says something else, diverting the attention from him. And what did she do? She just played along with it. Excuses, that was all she ever gave to herself. She saw something she didn't want to see, and she made up an explanation for it, twisting logic and reasoning to create her own world where everything was normal and safe.<p>

It's fine, it's fine, it's fine!

_And it's all lies, lies, lies..._

"Oi, what are you doing here?" Touka asks.

They are standing the subway, both in their respective school uniforms.

"Um...It's the train?" He says.

She huffs and rolls her eyes. "Don't get snippy with me, wood louse. I meant why are you on this train. It doesn't go to your house."

"...it doesn't? Then what train do I take?"

"Are you a moron? The east train of course! It's a faster and a more direct way." Worry nags at her; it's not like Kaneki to forget his way home. She can tell he isn't lying.

A moment of silence pass before Kaneki mumbles, "Uh I wanted to take a more scenic route today. Just wanted some time to think on the train. Tough day." He looks away.

"Hmm whatever." That explained it then. Why he took a different route. Touka knows that feeling. It's like when she just needed some time to herself and her home just seemed too quiet, too oppressive. So trains and buses became her favourite places to dwell on her thoughts, where the surroundings prevented her from getting lost in the labyrinths of her mind and at the same time, the anonymity it provided made her just one in a million, insignificant, and as such, completely undisturbed by others.

Right now, she can see Kaneki's subdued anxiety in the way he holds himself. He grasps his bag straps tightly till the whites of his knuckle show and his eyes flick uneasily left and right. His other hand taps out a tattoo of tension on his leg as he schools his expression into one of polite boredom. And his eyes... There were eye bags under them and his skin was pale - well paler than usual.

Whatever is bothering Kaneki has taken its toll on him and Touka feels mild concern to her co-worker. Should she ask what's going on in his life? She's tempted too, really but...it's going to make her look like she cares about him. Like hell she does.

She doesn't want him to get the wrong impression. It occurs to her that Kaneki's emotional state is going to affect his quality of work which means he's more prone to screw up during his work shift at Anteiku and guess who has to clean up his mess? Yep, yours truly. So that settles it then. She needs him to be at his absolute best not shrivelling up like a wilted flower.

His moping isn't going to help him and as much as she understands his need to be alone with his thoughts; she knows that the mind can just as easily trap one inside.

"Are you a horse?" She snaps at him.

Startled from whatever dark thoughts that reside in his mind, Kaneki blinks at her a few times in confusion. "I'm sorry, a what?"

"I said, are you a horse?"

He frowns, "No."

"Then why the long face?"

For a second, a priceless expression steals his face. Eyes wide and jaw hanging open, he can hardly believe that Touka had just made a joke. And it was actually funny too.

He can't help it. He laughs.

It's a nice laugh too, a genuine sound of startled happiness that sends a surge of warmth in her core.

"Feeling better?" She asks wryly.

"Yea, thank you."

"Eh, I just didn't want you to go to work with a shitty expression on your face."

"Huh? I work?" He looks at her and the blank look of confusion in his eyes sends a stab of panic right in her gut. She can tell he's not lying, he really has no idea.

She has to act normal, "Don't screw around! You work at Anteiku as a waiter and I don't know why but you're shitty at your job even though I've told you so many times how to handle the customers and the cutlery." Annoyance seeps into her words, meant to cover the worry she has for the half-ghoul.

For a second, all she sees is the horrible emptiness in his eyes. And then, a spark of recognition flickers, a small flame barely there. Thank god, she thinks, thank god, for a moment there, I thought that he -

"Ahahaha...just joking, Touka. That look on your face was hilarious." He chokes out a laugh and gives a strained smile, trying to brush the whole thing off.

A part of her wants to reach over and throttle him, (another part of her is screaming that something is off with him, he's not himself, can't you see that he doesn't remember important things and you know this, don't lie to yourself, you know just what's going on - ) and another part of her wants to sigh in relief. Just a practical joke. Which she fell for. Like an idiot.

"You're going to pay for that!" She growls, and slams her school bag into his stomach where he lets out an _oof!_

"Don't do that again, moron," she warns before returning to her place on the train.

"Yes, ma'am," he sighs.

Kaneki leans back on the seat, watching the scenery pass as the gentle rocking of the train soothes the anxiety in him. It feels pleasant, this tiny pocket of calm on the train, the low hum of the engine and the air-conditioning blowing a soft stream of air him. It's making him sleepy.

The rest of the journey passes in silence, Kaneki looking, for all intent and purpose, like he's dozing. If there's one thing Touka has a weak spot for, it's the peaceful expression on his face as he sleeps, trusting like a newborn cub.

What an idiot he is…Him and his stupid jokes.

_And it's all lies, lies, lies..._

* * *

><p>The next one occurs as she is walking over to Kaneki's house to deliver some specially designed dried blood and coffee powder. It's a new thing that Yoshimura made, reducing the need for any blood cubes since the blood is already in the grounded coffee powder. But the taste is slightly off and Yoshimura is sending another test batch to Kaneki for him to try.<p>

"Oh, Touka! I had no idea you were coming over" the raven haired male looks surprised as he opens the door.

Immediately, her ghoul nose detects the stench of blood and dirt wafting from his apartment.

"What are you doing inside?" She asks, trying to peer around the gap in the door.

Guilt is written all over his faces. "I er...got up and err..."

She can kick down the door and see for herself just what he is hiding but she likes to consider herself a (somewhat) civilised person who can settle this without resorting to violence. She gives him an unimpressed look.

"Uh...I was hungry," he blurts.

With just a lift of one eyebrow, she communicates to him silently, _Explain._

He fidgets, positively nervous about the interrogation. "I felt hungry so I went to the cemetery to get some..." He winces and looks down as if ashamed, "Food."

That explained the smell of soil and dirt then.

Pleased by not having to shove her way into his apartment to find out the matter, she gives a nod. She knows some ghouls who have resorted to grave robbing in order to sate their appetites.

"You didn't leave any traces, did you? Or let anyone see you?"

"I did it last night, and I only took a small piece and I chose that grave because well, no one visited him."

She frowns. "Couldn't you have just gone to Anteiku to get your supply?"

"Ah... I just," he pauses and looks down, "I just didn't want to keep relying on your charity all the time."

"Don't be stupid, Anteiku exists for a reason. It's good that you want to be independent but avoid doing this in future. It's dangerous since the number of doves has increased."

"Mmh yea, I'll keep that in mind. Hey Touka?" There is a note of uncertainty in his voice.

"What?"

"Could you not tell anyone about this? It's my first and last time. I'm sorry! I didn't know."

She sighs and waves her hand dismissively, "Yea yea, whatever."

"Thanks," and he gives her a warm smile that sends her heart going double time. Tch, she shouldn't have drunk so much coffee just now.

Then she remembers about the experimental batch and shoves it into his hands.

"Test batch 16."

As she passes over the tin, she realises that his fingernails are coated with bits of blood and gore.

Before she can think too much into this, Kaneki is wishing her a good day and closing the door.

_Huh, that's weird._

But the eccentricities of a half-ghoul are beyond her concern. She has other things to do like her ten page essay which is due tomorrow. Ugh...

As she makes her way down to the first level, the usual stink of garbage makes her wrinkle her nose. But wait! She pauses.

She walks over to the bins again, her sensitive nose catching the smell of blood and soil. The exact scent from his apartment. Her curiosity pique, she pokes around the rubbish and finds a black trash bag full of dead crows. The smell that was present in Kaneki's house assaults her.

_The hell is this?_

The bag contains 7 of the birds with their eyes gouged out and intestines torn out from their body. Their wings are twisted to a broken angle, legs ripped out from their sockets and their open beaks trapped in a silent scream.

But the soil smell doesn't come from them. She peers deeper into the bag and finds a severed human hand. She makes the connection.

Crows are carrion eaters and it seems that someone has dug up the hand from a cemetery to lure the birds to a horrible demise. What throws her off the most is that none of the birds' meat was gone. She would have thought that they would be eaten at least, but she can't even find a single bite mark. Why go to all the trouble to attract these birds if their flesh wasn't used? It's as if the main purpose of catching the crows was just to torture them.

And yet, the smell was present in Kaneki's house but that doesn't. Make. Sense.

Kaneki is one of the kindest and gentlest person she knows. He would _never_ torture any living things and she has seen him feeding stray cats little strips of meat and throwing breadcrumbs for the birds before.

Utterly confused, she stares at the bag for a few moments before tying it up securely and stashing it below the other trash bags.

She types a message and sends it to him. _Possible sadist near your house. Keep a lookout, dumbass._ Of course it can't be him. He said he was hungry right? And a hungry ghoul always eats flesh when it's present. The severed hand in the bag only contains small pecks from the crows, nothing to suggest a human or a ghoul could have bit into it.

She's not overly worried. After all, what's a person with a sick fetish compared to a ghoul who can kill a human in two seconds flat?

Her phone chimes and she reads. _There is? Uh how do you know that?_

She doesn't think he would like to hear about her grisly find. There's no point upsetting him over this.

_Ugh, never mind. Just don't trust your neighbours._

_Um...ok?_

_You better, idiot._

And back home watching his phone light up with a message from Touka, Kaneki gives a small smile and whispers, "I wonder who's the idiot here."

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><p>The last incident felt like ice water drenching her from head to toe. At first, the cold was more of a shock than anything. It wasn't until later did she realised she was shaking, her teeth was chattering and her muscles locked tight in spasms. Her body betraying her even as she had felt nothing at first. It felt like that.<p>

Kaneki and her are fighting with another ghoul that has gone rogue and succumbed to bloodlust. That kind of ghoul is nothing more than just a feral dog; completely mad, immensely vicious and better for all involved to be put down.

She blocks the only exit in the alley, slashing and cutting it so that it takes one step back, and another.

As she slices across the mad ghoul's kagune, it shrieks at her and goes for her throat. She dodges and kick at its stomach. It spits at her, an acid liquid that barely misses her head.

Meanwhile, Touka knows that Kaneki is waiting patiently in the shadows and bidding his time to strike. They have discussed their plan: Touka would slowly push the ghoul back to the end of the alley and Kaneki would kill it. Things seems to be going exactly as planned which makes it great. There's going to be an online meet up to discuss her group project with her classmates and at the rate they're going, she can be back home with plenty of minutes to spare. Score one for efficiency.

When the ghoul steps back onto a shadowed patch, a blood red tendril lashes out and wraps around the injured ghoul's arm. With a sickening pop, Kaneki wrenches it off and the ghoul's shriek pierces the night air. It sinks to the ground, a clawed arm around the gaping wound on its shoulder.

It's only because they have lured it to a deserted area that no one has called the police yet. Or worse, the Doves.

Kaneki advances and the ghoul hisses.

As he stops only a few paces away from it, one of his kagune latches onto its shoulder wound gently, as if caressing it and then with a jerk, the kagune _twists._

It screams, as wounded flesh distort and rip from each other, a horrible wet squelching noise.

"Scream like a pig," Kaneki sneers, dark, dark eyes filled with disdain.

He takes a small step forward and it is enough for the rogue ghoul to scrabble away despite the pain.

For once, something that isn't madness shines in its demented eyes. It's fear.

"Can't let you run away, can I?" Kaneki singsongs, taking another deliberate step forward.

His kagune shoots forward and grips its right leg below the knee, and twists. Hard. The bone dislodges with a wet snap and the ghoul howls again. Kaneki does the same to its left foot, except he twists the leg two times on itself, skin shredding apart and bones cra-cra-cracking!

"What are you doing? Just kill it already!" Touka snaps.

She knows that ghouls can get a little caught up in bloodlust and hunger but she has never seen him act this way. She doesn't understand why he has suddenly gotten so sadistic. He's inflicting pain unnecessarily where a cleanly-delivered cut across its neck would have sufficed.

Kaneki gives a slow and terrible smile.

"Alright."

One moment, the ghoul is on the ground. The next, its five feet in the air and _all_ of Kaneki's kagune are pierced through its stomach. Blood splatters down on the ground as the ghoul gives a choked gasp.

And then she sees that some of Kaneki's tendrils are shifting and pulsating. The rogue ghoul's skin stretches and bulges, before splitting open like rotten fruits, thick red bands of worms wriggling through.

Pieces of flesh rain down on them, the heavy tang of blood coating the atmosphere.

Touka has to swallow her bile.

Kaneki flicks his kagune and the remains of the ghoul splatter against the grey concrete walls.

His kagune slides back towards him as he turns to face her, "Mission accomplished."

He grins, teeth gleaming white and Touka is suddenly reminded of a wolf baring its fangs

Fear niggles in the base of her spine but she pushes it down. This is Kaneki. He would never hurt her.

"What was that for?" Without meaning to, she lets a note of worry bleed into her tone.

He lifts one insolent eyebrow. "Just felt like it."

"This isn't you." She says and it feels right, somehow. Like the person in front of her isn't the shy and gentle boy she knows.

"Which university do you go to?" She asks, crossing her arms.

"Does it matter?" He's not even looking at her, just examining his kagune and wiping away any sticky bits of flesh.

"Yes," she snaps.

"Oh," he shrugs, "I can't remember." Looking entirely unconcerned, he adds as an afterthought, "Honestly, I don't really care."

And that settles it. The offhand manner which he reacted. As if his memories don't matter. Her mind races and races and she comes to a sickening realization. It seems quite possible and it's just a theory but she still feels herself growing cold with conviction. All the incidents that happened so far had pointed towards it but she had lied to herself all this time, coming up with her own excuses and denying it because she was too much a coward to admit it. But the truth is staring right at her now and she can't pretend anymore. Memory cannibalisation.

Faintly, she says, "Your ghoul side is devouring your human memories, isn't it? Y-y-you're slowly forgetting your life as a human."

When he doesn't reply, Touka almost loses it. _At least deny it,_ she wants to scream. _At least act like it matters._ But all that passes through her lips is just a muffled sob.

So she's right then.

Silence hangs thick and heavy in the air. It's only after a lengthy pause that Kaneki says, "It's funny but somehow, I'm not scared or sad about it." He looks up and gives a heart-breaking smile, all gentle curves and sweet sincerity. It hurts because it's the smile Kaneki gives to those whom he is close to, those that he has come to trust and like very much. Touka doesn't know when is the next time she'll ever see this smile again, if even at all.

Memories devouring memories. What is going to be left of him?

He turns around, faces his back to her, the sprawling mass of his kagune undulating gently.

She knows that his hair is black but for a moment, when the moonlight catches his figure, she swears that she sees white strands in his hair.

"Goodnight Touka," he calls over his shoulder but all she hears as she stares at his steadily diminishing back is _Goodbye Touka_.

She feels like a puppet whose strings have been cut, numb and boneless and absolutely helpless. Her knees give way and she slumps to the ground, her whole mind whirling with tumultuous emotions.

She stays there for a long time, blood soaking her clothes and the gritty concrete below her legs.

Slowly, she turns her head to the side, sees the blood-stained walls, sees the horror unleashed on this night of the full moon.

And that's when the tears begin to slide down her cheeks because she should have known (she knew, deep down in the places she had refused to look, she knew).

It was everywhere, screaming at her in lurid red letters but she had been too blind, too scared.

The signs were everywhere… but Kaneki was already gone.

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><p>It's only the next day does she sees the news report on Nishiki's and Kimi's death.<p>

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><p><strong>I've enjoyed writing this fic as I get to bring in elements of horror and angst and bloodshed and of course, how could I forget, TouKen. How did you find this chapter so far? Are the charactes OOC and what do you think of the plot? Any thoughtscomments/constructive criticism are always appreciated; it's nice to hear from readers after all :)**

**The next chapter is in the process of being written (I'm talking 7K words in, how's that for productivity?) and it's going to explain the last line of this chapter from Kaneki's pov in greater detail. Excited? I sure am, but give me a little time to iron out the plot holes. It has to be spectacular, ya know?**

**Till next time!**


	2. First Taint

**It was a long wait, I know, and I'm really sorry about that! BUT, I haven't been lazing around on a beach drinking pina coladas even though that sure sounds nice. Instead, after various edits, the whole plot has been given the holy and golden seal of approval. What that means is that I'm not staring at the screen waiting in vain for some inspiration to spring out like a sucker punch. In actual fact, all I need to do is get my sorry ass to write the chapters out. And let me tell you, these chapters are long. So, a little waiting time would be expected. Hope you don't mind**

**In any case, for the first chapter to get a sizable number of favourites/follows/reviews is just wow. No really, I didn't expect this. Thank you to the various humans, humanoid beasts, artificial intelligence or any other life forms on this planet who read and enjoyed this fic. This chapter was great fun to write ^^**

**Thanks to June Ellie for being my First Reader and giving comments on madness progression. For being such a huge help in plot discussions, grammar and character development, thank you to my wonderful beta Charlie-the-Spider.**

**(Edit: Thanks to xxxDreamingflowerxxx for pointing out the mistake in Itori's name, it has now been changed :) )**

**Chapter 2 takes place concurrently with the first chapter, except this time, it's from Kaneki's pov. Enjoy!**

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><p>"Onii-chan, can we go to the bookstore?" It's Hinami who asks, small hands slipping into his and eyes wide and beseeching. He thinks that he really can't say no to her, not after the death of her parents where happiness had been such a distant concept. Now it exudes from her pores and the way she smiles, as if a Sun is lighting her up from within. It's funny how things have changed…She's not the only one who has, he knows that. There's the buried knowledge festering inside of him, of red flowers blooming over mouldering grey corpses.<p>

But.

He's still here. He's still alive. He's still smiling.

(Not for long, though.)

"Of course," he says, and runs a hand through her hair.

It's dangerous to believe that nothing has changed – it's even more dangerous to act like it. He had brushed it off, lied to himself that everything was fine, even if he had felt strange thoughts sliding through his mind like the wet press of a bloodied hand. But, he's fine (he still is, really) and other than the occasional bouts of haze that shroud his mind, the alien words that sometimes slip into his thought-patterns seamlessly as well as the dark echoes in his head, he can continue to lie to himself and believe it.

This way, if no one knows about this, then he's not hurting anyone.

Kaneki takes her by the hand and leads her to the bookstore, where they made sure to look both ways before crossing the street.

* * *

><p>He wakes up on a soft bed, sunlight gently filtering in the curtain and basking him in a golden glow. It's warm and nice so he rolls over and cracks open an eye.<p>

The room he finds himself in is messy with scrawled writings on papers that are strewn haphazardly around. The walls are a dull green, like the lifeless glaze of a dead sea-coral. Books adorn the apartment; they lay snug in the shelves and languidly on the sofa, under the covers and piled up high on tables.

Whoever lives here sure must like books, he thinks.

He gets off the bed, ambling over to the toilet. A quick peek inside shows a lone toothbrush sitting in a cup. Shrugging, he walks to the windows and peers out of them on tiptoes: trees swaying gently under the warm rays of the sun, a row of houses with well-kept gardens and on a pathway between them, a black cat lazes around with half-lidded eyes. It yawns, pink tongue poking out of its mouth before it closes its jaws with a snap of its teeth.

Seems like a nice neighbourhood. It's pretty quiet too. Peaceful.

The blank fuzzy patch residing in his mind buzzes pleasantly.

He turns around and walks deeper into the house. The kitchen seems to be low on food. In fact, the only things he can find are just row after row of coffee tins. Curious.

Shaking his head, he steps out to the main hall and picks up a book that is lying face down on the table. In black spidery handwriting, the cover reads 'The Black Goat's Egg'.

Huh, it looks familiar. Perhaps he has read it before. Let's see…it's something about a boy realising his mother was an assassin and finding the same dark urges in him. Frightened, he'd tried to fight it but he ended up succumbing to the nameless demon that lived inside of him.

He supposes it was a good read, he likes that there were plenty of grey areas portrayed in human nature. It sort of reminds him of being a ghoul, actually. For a human author, Takatsuki Sen is surprisingly accurate.

Mmh, it sure is a nice place over here – wherever here is.

Putting the book down, Kaneki looks up -

- and freezes.

This is _his_ book.

This is _his_ room.

This is _his_ house.

And he had _forgotten _all about them.

The air leaves his lungs and he can't breathe.

He knows he has holes in his memories, and it had just happened. Where he didn't recognise his surroundings and he all he felt was this ocean of peace, as if everything was normal, the missing chunks in his head no more a nuisance than a fly is to a lion. It was only after the moment had passed did the fear and uncertainty set in, where he began to question his own sanity.

Talking to someone about it would make sense. Yoshimura especially, with his ageless wisdom and experience. Touka, who may not know much, but her usual brash manner calms him down. Itori, the information broker who has been generous up till now. These are the people that can alleviate the horrible feelings of helplessness and despair – but these are the people he is going to worry.

Dumping the whole load of his problem on them seems too demanding of him. They have their own things to deal with; they don't need the problems of a half-ghoul to further compound it. They say knowledge is power, but they don't say that said power can be used to worry others unnecessarily.

He may not like what's happening to him but he can bear it. He hasn't hurt anyone with his temporary memory lapses - yet.

He strongly believes that in this case, ignorance is bliss.

(For now, at least.)

The last thing he remembered from yesterday night was that he was reading a chapter from his textbook for an upcoming test. For what felt like an eternity, he had been staring at the jumble of words that made no sense to him, and that was the seventh time he had been reading the same paragraph. He tugged on his hair and stood up in frustration, pacing the room in a bid to calm his mind and get back into the studying mood. Yet, it was to no avail as he collapsed back on the chair again to eye his textbook exasperatedly. It was then he heard a strange scratching sound in his ear.

_Scritch scritch scritch,_ it went.

_Scritch scritch scritch._

He shook his head rapidly from side to side.

_Scritch scritch scritch._

Swivelling around, he searched his room, eyes darting from crevice to crevice.

_Scritch scritch scritch._

A crawling sensation under his skin caused him to look down at his hand but there was nothing. His skin was unblemished. But the merciless scratching and tugging felt like tiny needles under his skin, making it seem as if the seams of his flesh could split apart any moment and pour out a mass of insects. He couldn't help it; he screamed.

The next thing he knew, he woke up missing his memories that took a few minutes for him to regain. Pressing his knuckles to his eyes, he took a few deep breaths before looking up at the clock.

9.15am?

He stares at the clock in horror.

I'm late!

The test is today!

He grabs at whatever notes within reach and stashes them into his bag, rushing into the toilet to make himself look less like a dead eyed ghoul and more like a human (oh the irony, his brain quips, but right now, he has no time to appreciate any of this, so if his brain would focus on what the fastest way to get to school was, that would be most helpful!)

* * *

><p>Thankfully, the teacher lets him take the test - even if he did slam open the door and burst into the room with wild eyes and messy hair, a string of apologies on his lips.<p>

The teacher, Tsume-sensei, gestures impatiently for him to take a seat, which he does with relief. He checks the board and sees that it is a written book test.

Hardly believing his luck, he digs around in his bag for the relevant notes. He doesn't think he can remember what he studied anyway. As he pulls them out, the first thing he notices is that they're red. So very red. Frowning, he looks closer and realises that no, he didn't use his notes as a rag to soak up blood. Instead, it's just red ink and there are words scrawled in a shaky and spidery handwriting. There are sentences and paragraphs written in them but they don't make any sense. A quick frantic flip of his pages shows all the pages are covered by the same mysterious writings. There was one particular poem that kept repeating itself throughout.

_Creepy crawly, _

_Up my eye-sies, _

_Digging digging _

_Into my brain._

What? He scans the others nonsensical things written in there:

_It's a-scratching, a-tapping and I can't count the legs. So many legs. Crawling in my head._

_Why is the wind, why is the sea, why is the centipede crawling in me._

_Incy wincy centipede crawling in me, _

_Up goes my blood and down goes my brain,_

_Out came the centipede and ate up all my pain _

_And incy wincy centipede crawling up again!_

The last one reminds him of a song he had heard when he was young: Incy wincy spider. Humming the tune under his breath, he finds that the words actually fit with the song. He crumples the edges of the paper, paper crackling beneath his fingers.

Just a joke. Whoever it was thought that this would be funny. Hey, let's vandalise the notes Kaneki needs for the exam so he would flunk his ass out of university. He picks up his pen and reads the first question. His pen hovers hesitatingly over the paper as he reads the next question, and the next, and the next one after that. When he finishes looking through all the questions, he puts his pen down on the table and slumps against his chair. Kaneki gives a glance at his disfigured notes before looking away.

He can hear the dim thunder of his stormy black thoughts somewhere at the back of his head and it seems to be getting closer.

He could have aced test. He knows it. The answers were all in his notes but…

He'll find those people who did this, he'll find them and -

_crack_

Rip their arms out –

_crack_

Break their bones -

_crack_

"Shhhh!"

"Huh?" He looks up and realises the student in front of him is giving him a disgruntled look and putting a finger to his mouth. (So that's where that annoying sound came from.)

The person frowns once more before turning around.

_crack_

What was it with the world thinking that he can't do what he wants?

_crack_

It's not like he's hurting anybody. Disturb - perhaps. Disrupt - maybe. Destroy - well that's a bit of an exaggeration, isn't it?

_crack_

The student whips around and glares at him.

_crack_

Kaneki smiles.

_crack_

If looks could kill, Kaneki would probably be a body riddled with arrows but he isn't. He's not hurting anyone so he can do whatever he wants. He's just cracking his fingers. Like the Cheshire cat, his smile stretches to the corners of his face.

_crack_

"Kaneki! Please maintain silence during the exams!" Tsume-sensei calls out sharply from the front, causing the raven hair male to immediately cease his finger cracking and duck his head, a faint flush on his cheek.

Meanwhile, the vermin in front of him shoots a smug look, arrogance lining his features. Kaneki briefly wonders what happens if he cracks that face in half then forcibly pushes the thought out of his head. Violence is never the answer. What is wrong with him?

Two hours later, the examinations end amidst the rustling of paper as students nervously check that they have answered all the questions. In some cases, some didn't even finish the paper and are either completely indifferent to it or slowly panicking, breaths shallow and clutching their pens with desperation in every white knuckles.

On a whim, Kaneki scrawls his name in red pen and hands it over with a defiant gleam in his eye. Tsume-sensei walks past and doesn't say a word, merely accepts his papers and walks on. It's probably for the best that she didn't make any comment. He doesn't think he can contain his laughter for long at the way she had first looked at the paper, then at him, brought the paper closer to her, opened her mouth - and promptly snapped it shut when she looked at him again.

Must be the smile, he thinks, and widens his grin.

As a quiet and studious person, the teachers have a good – if somewhat distant – impression of him. A pleasant student who takes great pride in his work. That's it. While it may seem as if he is being rebellious just this once, in actual fact, all he wants is a little more recognition from the teachers themselves. Besides, it's not like anyone is getting hurt. Harmless little stunts and jokes.

A long time ago, he would have balked in pulling these off, the notions so aberrant and foreign to him they would barely have crossed his mind. But having himself turned into a ghoul really does shake things loose in his head, you know?

He just needs some excitement of the _harmless_ variety.

After the all papers have been collected, the vermin in front of him walks over to his desk.

"I would appreciate it if you could stop being a nuisance."

The guy is shorter than Kaneki and the large frame of his spectacles merely highlights how big and clunky they look on his face. He's skinny as a pole but the way he walks is a smooth swagger, hinting of lithe and supply muscles underneath his baggy clothes. He looms over the seated ghoul and glares down at him with beady eyes behind his red rimmed spectacles.

"Okay," Kaneki nods.

_crack_

From that sound alone, it's enough to cause a vein to visibly throb in the corner of that student's forehead, the bluish-red colour standing starkly in contrast with his pale skin.

"You're doing this on purpose," he grits out and slams a fist on the table.

Kaneki gives him a completely unimpressed look.

"You better watch out," the vermin stabs a finger at him before stalking off, clearly annoyed that his intimidating tactic was a complete failure.

_Violence is never the answer, but it sure is a nice indulgence. _

As he watches his departure, he wonders then what it would take to crush his skull. Shatter the bones. Dig out his eyes. Eat them. Would it taste sweet?

His eyes widen as he realises just what he was thinking about. Kaneki digs his fingers into his scalp and scratches furiously, the habit entirely a part of him that he doesn't really think of it.

He has to control his thoughts properly. There are strange things rattling inside and he can't let them out. And yet, they still do.

It had felt like the warm and wet press of a bloodied hand on the back of his neck, fingers pressing into his brains and sending streams of thoughts in there, a virus entering a body. It was an experience that he never wants to relive again but something tells him this won't be the last time.

_Control yourself, _he mentally berates, _This isn't you!_

_My name is Kaneki Ken and I do not wish harm on my classmates. I don't._

He gathers his belongings with shaky hands and quickly heads out the door.

* * *

><p>The corridor is filled with groups of students chattering and discussing aspects of their lives and their school work. In some cases, the two are synonymous and we can only offer our condolences. The multitudes of conversations meld into an incomprehensible din that hovers at the back of his mind like white noise. He tries to squeeze past a group of girls but ends up getting jostled and pushed around, so he clings to the sides of the walkway, and makes his slow and steady way to the school library where things are blessedly quieter and less crowded.<p>

He's just about to put his bag down on the empty table at the library when all of a sudden, a boy with fiery hair pops out and grins, "Heya Kaneki!"

He finds himself smiling at his childhood friend; he always seemed to have an uncanny knack of finding him no matter where he goes. "Hello Hide."

"Mind if I sit here?"

The question itself is redundant for they are the best of friends, diametrically opposed yet balancing each other like counterweights. Hide asks with an open grin and a gesture to the chair while Kaneki always nods, accepts the hand of friendship that's always extended towards him. Theirs is an old story.

Hide sits next to him as they begin to pull out their notes from their bag.

"What's that?"

"Oh, this?" He looks at the vandalised notes before handing it over. "Someone wrote this, no idea who."

"That's nasty," he comments, flipping through the papers and finding it unsalvageable and beyond recognition.

"You pissed off someone?"

Kaneki shakes his head.

"Just be extra cautious around people who ask to lend them your notes. Mind if I take this with me? Super sleuth Hide is going to get to the bottom of this!" he brandishes the papers and strikes a pose, causing the bookworm to chuckle at the antics of his friend.

"Yea, sure."

"Anyway, can we go to Anteiku after this? I want to see Touka-chan again. Ah, she's just so cute." Hearts dance around the besotted male's eyes. "You think she's cute, right, Kaneki?"

The image of her raging after another of his mistakes sends a shudder through his spine but this is Hide, and well, he's always the most funny when he has a crush on someone. The theatrics and the soliloquy, all part of the misguided - if amusing - way he deals with anyone he takes an interest in. It'll fade in time like all his previous crushes do so he doesn't mind indulging his friend a bit.

"Yea, she is."

"Oh, you agreed!" He rocks back in his chair like a kid high on sugar and sends a sly look at his friend. "You like her too, huh?"

It's a simple question with an obvious answer but somehow in that moment, he finds himself remembering the way the lights cast a gentle glow on her silhouette as she leans against the door, a small curl of her lips as she watches Hinami reading a book aloud.

"N-n-no, I don't," he says hurriedly and scratches his chin.

The movement does not go unnoticed.

Hide narrows his eyes and puts a hand to his heart, faking a stab wound on his chest, "My best friend is my rival in love. Oh, woe is me!" he cries.

"Ah no, that's not true, Hide." He lifts his hands in surrender, trying to calm his friend down but Hide is having none of it, writhing on the table and making gross sobbing noises. Some days, Hide can be such a drama queen but he finds himself smiling at the – usual - melodrama. Leave it to Hide to embarrass himself in public and not care what others are thinking.

"Young man, please maintain silence in the library. People are here to read, not to watch a performer in his death throes!" The sharp voice of the head library cuts through Hide's soulful sorrow and he lifts up his head like an attentive dog, eyes bright and his head tilted to the left, and gives her an apologetic grin. "Sorry."

Mollified with his apology - Hide's smile seems to have that effect on everybody - she gives a huff and walks off.

The two boys share a look, Kaneki mouthing 'death throes' and they dissolve in stifled giggles like the true kids they are at heart.

When they have gotten over the hilarity of that moment, Hide suddenly leans forward with his eyes deathly serious, "It's your mother's anniversary coming up, have you bought the items?"

Mother's anniversary? Why would she need an anniversary? Did he miss something? He hesitates and the pause in their conversations begins to stretch uncomfortably.

"Kaneki?" There's genuine confusion in Hide's eyes.

"Huh?"

"Did you get the things?' He says slowly.

Kaneki flounders for a moment, mind desperately searching for something to reply with. His neurones fire spastically as the electrical impulses speeds through his brain, sparking and flashing as they go down each neural pathway but all he's coming up with now is just a giant blank.

"Um excuse me, do you know where I can find the Literature section? It's my first time in the library." The voice was soft and they turn in synchrony to see who it is. A girl in a lilac dress with cascading black hair stands at the corner, hands folded in front of her and looking at the floor.

Kaneki stands up immediately, "Oh, it's this way."

He guides the shy girl to the relevant section and as he does, he mentally lets out a sigh at the timely distraction.

Once he has directed her to the correct area which is far, far, far away from Hide, she gives a quiet and sincere, "Thanks," before she steps closer to the shelves, the faint scent of lavender in the air.

The walk back to his table is a long one; he drags his feet and pauses along the way to flip through a few books that catches his eye. When he returns to the table, Hide is still there, busily poring over his notes.

"I thought you were never going to return," Hide starts.

Kaneki smiles, and asks, "What are you doing now?"

"Just a few notes for my test. They're going to test Macbeth and I'm sure they're going to touch on the theme of death again. Man," he complains, "Shakespeare must have been a pessimistic fellow."

With a small quirk of his lips, he's about to defend the author when the word registers in his mind. _Death._

Like the flood gates opening, he remembers what it was that had stumped him previously.

"My mom's dead," he blurts, and there is a flood of images slamming into his brain, bringing him up-to-date to the current situation. More quietly he adds, "Yea, I got the flowers and the pinwheels are done."

He'd always liked pinwheels as a child and his mother would always make one for him to play with. They weren't simple ones made from paper; his mother had incorporated strings and sequins and various other trinkets to decorate the pinwheels with. It had brought him many moments of joy as his family wasn't well-off but as a five year old, the pinwheels had been his prized possession. It only stands to reason that he should make one for her during her anniversary, for all the times she had painstakingly crafted one for him – it's an equivalent exchange, after all.

Hide's eyes are soft and warm when he finally manages to lift his head.

"You want a moment?" He asks in a low voice filled with sympathy.

"It's alright. I know I should be used to it by now but it still hurts even after all these years."

A painful knuckle to his head makes Kaneki squawk in outrage, "Hide!"

With a cheerful grin, the male with bright brown hair replies, "No moping around, not on my watch!" and proceeds to start tickling his sides.

Not only is Kaneki a ticklish sort of guy, he is an extremely ticklish one. The gloomy thoughts that pervade his mind flee swiftly in the face of Hide's successful attempt to make him laugh.

Unsurprisingly, they get kick out of the library.

* * *

><p>As Hide goes off for his classes, Kaneki walks along the deserted walkways of the west wing of his university. Being the residential areas for teachers, no student would like to see their professors more than they have to. It was this belief that made this section of his school to be relatively peaceful. However, Kaneki knows that at this time of the day, the teachers are more likely to be in their classes rather than their residence so a quiet atmosphere drifts languidly around the area.<p>

A cool breeze grazes his cheek and he enjoys the way the wind feels like a caress, smoothing away the tension in his shoulders. Of all the things that could slip his mind, it was his mother's anniversary. On one hand, it was a temporary release – the weight of his mother's death didn't sit so heavy on his shoulders if he didn't know that she was gone. On the other, the fact that he couldn't remember that important incident sends a low-key panic blooming in his gut.

What if it gets worse? What if one day he can't remember Hide and Touka and Hinami and –

He cuts himself off.

There's no reason for him to worry unnecessarily. He's sure these memory lapses are only temporary. Must be all the stress and such, factors that lead to a _temporary_ decrease in his cognition and mental recall abilities.

The pleasant chirping of a few sparrows distracts him from his thoughts and he notices that they hop around the tree branches and peer down at him with curious eyes and cocked heads, wings gently fluttering as they flit around from branch to branch.

They are sorta cute. Although... he couldn't say that for the other species.

His hand twitches.

He remembers the other kind of birds, the sly crafty ones with jet black plumage and eyes that seemed far too mocking for his liking. Every time he walked past them, they were cawing and making a nuisance of themselves and they were always laughing at him, always judging with coal black eyes. He had seethed and scratched at that itchy spot behind his ear whenever their harsh voices echoed in the air.

Crows, that's what they were called.

They didn't possess the elegance or the swiftness of the swans and sparrow. What those crows had were sharp and ugly beaks that they used to rip open rubbish bags and go digging through them with their claws, a whole murder of crows cawing raucously to one another. Lurking near the dumps and sewers, their feathers retained the stench of decomposing filth.

Every time he caught sight of them, he felt disgusted at their greasy feathers, their grating caws and the way they looked at him with supercilious arrogance.

He hated them and he scratched his head and yanked his hair and his fingers twitched as he thought about what he would do if he ever got hold of one of them.

And one day, he did.

In a feverish delirium, to finally have them at his mercy, made him tugged his hair in excitement. And so, even as a small part of him cried out _no_, the darker and more dominant part of him merely grinned and said _YES_.

First came the scissors that went _snick snick snick._ Then came the hammer that made the bones go _cr-cr-crack_ throughout his house and lastly there was the needle which was quiet in its approach, but not in its execution.

Feathers drifted around and corpses littered his floor, black and red mingling, colours standing out starkly in contrast. He had disposed of their bodies and was about to clean the bloodstains at home when Touka had knocked on his door, and he scrambled madly to his feet, grabbing a fresh pair of clothes and lying through his teeth about where he got the blood from. Touka was suspicious, but she seemed to believe him and like the icing on the cake, she even thought that there was someone else in his building responsible for the crow's deaths. So he had grinned and laughed and pat himself on the back for the convincing act before he came back to himself, a sudden jerk in his thoughts.

He came back to himself (from where?) and his hands shook for _days_ and bile rose up his throat as he recalled what he had done in that traitorous moment.

Just...what had overcome him?

He's still not sure but nothing could deny the gut-clenching excitement he had felt when he was in control of the situation. And that scares him more than anything in this world, the knowledge that sat heavy in his heart, demanding to be acknowledged, that he had _liked _it.

His sleep was haunted by crows and claws and beaks that opened to reveal maggots wriggling inside and it screamed and screeched at him and then _he _joined in the screaming and screaming and screaming.

When he saw Touka on the train one day after a particularly fitful night's sleep, he was just incredibly grateful for her presence and that she didn't make a mention of how horrible he had looked. She just took it all in her typical – pissed off – stride and well, something about being treated like normal (even though he's _not_), made him rest a little easy on the train ride back.

It must have only been his imagination that Touka did look worried and – dare he say it? – concerned about him. But that's ridiculous, right? He's just Kaneki the half-ghoul, the one who can barely defend himself and is only a liability to those around him. He's just a nobody. Why would Touka think twice about him? Heck, why would she even care?

All he has brought to the ghouls at Anteiku is one more hungry mouth to feed and more trouble than he is worth. A burden, really.

The moment he reveals to any of them that he is suffering from whatever is happening to him, is the moment they might abandon him (just like his mother). And he can't have that; because these people mean a lot to him, and he will not burden them with his taint.

But it's okay, right? He's okay now.

He's feeling better and whatever happened was all just a really bad - and rather vivid - dream.

He's fine, absolutely, and no one needs to know what had transpired on that day.

Obviously because it _didn't happen._

I mean, it couldn't have. He's a nice guy - everyone says so and sure the crows could get annoying from time to time but violence is never the answer. Not for him, at least.

Lost in his thoughts, someone suddenly shouts, "Look out!"

Before he can even lift his head, he collides into someone. The impact causes him to crash to the floor and he's more surprised at the suddenness of it than the pain of his rump meeting the floor at an accelerated pace.

The other person, who is in the same state as him, snarls, "Watch it, one eye brat!"

They get up and eye each other, Kaneki looking as ferocious as a kitten while Nishiki grits his teeth and stares him down.

"Nishiki! Apologise to Kaneki-kun immediately." From nowhere, a rolled up piece of newspaper slams down onto Nishiki's head with the force of an asteroid crashing down to Earth. Or, it feels like that anyway.

"Ouch! Watch it, woman!" Nishiki winces. If there's one thing Nishiki hates, it's being publicly chastised by an irate Kimi. Boy, can she shout. And hit. And induce mortal fear in him like nothing in this world can. It's a really terrifying experience. Addictive, too.

She stabs her finger at him, "I saw you walking into him so you should apologise!"

Ghouls are gifted with a certain level of self-preservation, definitely higher than of a human. It has aided them well in many fights as they gauge whether an opponent is worth the trouble to eliminate or to be left alone with a few broken bones. There are already so little of them, no point in trying to reduce their numbers to make it easier for the Doves to wipe them all out. As such, there comes a time when a ghoul knows that it is severely outclassed, outmanoeuvred and outmatched, and that the only thing that lies ahead is a slow and painful death should they choose to continue. This is one of them.

With an air of resignation, Nishiki turns around and face Kaneki.

"I'm sorry," he says in a contrite tone but away from the eyes of Kimi, he is practically glaring daggers at Kaneki, intent on trying to roast him alive from sheer willpower. It failed spectacularly, the effort resulting in him looking more constipated than usual.

"Oh, err, that's okay." Looking as if he wants to be anywhere but here, Kaneki takes a step back. He gives a wave at Kimi, who beams at him.

"Sorry you have to deal with his attitude. I hope he's not troubling you, is he?" The look she gives Nishiki is enough to make rampaging wildebeest pause in their tracks and make them do a 180 degrees turn. She then turns back to smile pleasantly at Kaneki. "It's okay, you can tell me anything. I can't thank you enough from rescuing me from that overdramatic purple-haired peacock."

"Ah, it's no problem. I'm really glad to have met you. Nishiki-senpai can be scary but he has such a nice girlfriend like yourself."

Senpai? Nishiki's eyebrows rise higher and higher. Since when did Kaneki ever call him that? And what's with that disturbing gleam in his eye?

"Oh ho, why thank you Kaneki-kun. Rest assured that I'll properly discipline him." Kimi says with a smile that looks far too innocent for someone about to boil him alive.

_Damn you, Kaneki._

"Oh...I don't think I should mention this..." He trails off and like a fish biting the bait - hook, line and sinker included - Kimi immediately encourages him.

"It's alright. You can tell me."

"Nishiki senpai...Nishiki senpai bullies me." He says it with so much hurt feelings that Nishiki knows to be an absolute lie. Just what the hell is that brat playing at? Further thoughts become irrelevant when she slowly turns around and fixes him with her death-glare, the one that spoke of stars dying and universes collapsing from the onslaught of her fury.

That _brat._

"Oh, I'm late for class. It's really nice meeting both of you here. I hope we can catch up." He shoots a smirk at Nishiki, too fast for the human eye to catch but for a ghoul, enough to see the smugness radiating off him like a cat licking cream.

Enraged at the blatant manipulation, Nishiki makes a quick gesture which looks like there are ants in his pants but is in actual fact, communicating silently to Kaneki. _4pm at the abandoned train house. You and me._

The message noted, Kaneki nods his head imperceptibly before making an awkward bow in front of his seniors and disappears around the corner.

With a gulp, he turns around to face her.

"Oh Nishiki~" it's the sound an executioner makes before slicing off a head.

"Yes?" He asks, trying to delay the inevitable.

"Could you tell me..."

"Uh-huh..." He says weakly.

"I think I may have heard wrongly..."

"Uh, listen." He gives a small desperate smile.

"WHY ARE YOU BULLYING KANEKI?"

Everyone within a one mile radius heard them. It is common knowledge that once Kimi starts something, she's going to chase it all the way down. There is no stopping her now.

Withering inside, Nishiki asks himself despairingly: _Just why did I go and fall in love with this terror of a woman?_

* * *

><p>At approximately 3.45pm, Kaneki is already there, idly twirling a grass stalk in his hands as he leans against a tree trunk, his eyes half-lidded. It is this scene that Nishiki approaches with curled fists and anger in his gaze.<p>

"Just what was that?" He demands, without even saying a hello.

Kaneki finds it rather rude.

"Hello to you too, Nishiki." The grass stalk spins like a ballerina in his hands.

"She scolded me over something that _I didn't do_."

"Oh." Twirling, spinning, pirouetting – his hands move elegantly and the stalk dances.

"She came this close to ripping my still beating heart out of my chest!" The distance between his thumb and index finer was small enough such that even a flea would be hard pressed to get through.

"Are you trying to get Kimi to kill me?' He asks, outrage lancing his voice.

"Yes," he says evenly. The stalk ceases its graceful dance and is placed on the grass. Kaneki finally looks up. "I thought we came here to fight, not to hear you whining. You're still alive, aren't you?" The words slither out of his mouth before their actual meaning could register. In the second that it takes to backtrack and comprehend just what he had said exactly - which is to place a death warrant on his head - is enough for Nishiki to swing a fist at him.

The abandoned train house they are in is exactly as it name suggest. It used to be a busy station, with people streaming in and out in droves but there was an incident with the fuel mechanism which caused the fuel to unknowingly leak out from some of the trains. A lit cigarette ignited a puddle of oil and as the saying goes, the rest was history. The area was a mark of shame and negligence, where innocent civilians lost their lives in an unfortunate incident. The Earth was scorched badly such that it gave off a foul smell, with sickly-looking trees that sprout sallow and limpid leaves grew around the area, the only signs of life. And so it was in a clearing the two ghouls found themselves, a bruise mark on Kaneki's face and a clearly, pissed off Nishiki looking as if the whole world had just insulted him, his mother and his entire bloodline.

Maybe it's the adrenaline, or how Kaneki can feel his bones knitting together from that punch, confident that he can take the damage with his enhanced healing abilities. Whatever it is, there is absolutely no reason for him to say, "You hit like a girl."

Nishiki's eyes darken in fury.

The enraged ghoul's kagune slides out and in a flash, a leg is aimed straight at Kaneki who barely dodges out of the way and in his haste to escape, he steps back too quickly, overbalances and falls to the ground (again).

From his waist, his kagune bursts out and lashes at Nishiki who nimbly twists out of the way.

Nishiki jumps to the air again and launches an aerial attack. Kaneki's kagune shoots forth into the sky and for a moment, it seems it's going to spear Nishiki right through. Then, Nishiki's bikaku flexes, adjusting his trajectory and sending a whiplash of wind as he drops like a rock.

He lands behind Kaneki and his feet barely touches the ground before he twists and kicks Kaneki right in his stomach. Hard. The impact causes his skin to ripple, the shockwave travelling throughout his body.

Kaneki spits out blood.

Another kick right at his knee shatters the bones and he falls to his knees, putting his weight on his uninjured leg, his kagune lashing around madly and he's screaming and screaming, he can feel the bone shards digging into his flesh and –

The last kick slams his head into the ground, leaving a sizable crater on the ground.

He blacks out. The fight is over before Kaneki could even launch his attack.

In the enfolding darkness, Kaneki can hear someone singing:

_Creeping up,_

_Crawling down,_

_Something is now,_

_Digging digging_

_Into my brain._

What a nice song, he thinks muzzily, and slides back into unconsciousness.

* * *

><p>The first thing he hears is a ticking which irritates him deeply. He just wants some shuteye. Is that too much to ask?<p>

The next thing he's aware of is a strange taste in his mouth. It's sweet.

Upon opening his eyes, he realises he's lying on a soft mattress in an unfamiliar room. The fan above whirls gently, blades cleanly slicing the air and ruffling his hair in the breeze. Footsteps on the floor and then a voice, "So you finally woke up, brat."

Nishiki steps into the room warily.

"Yeah," he runs his hand through his head and finds that the clothes he's wearing are loose upon his frame.

"Am I wearing your shirt?"

"Hmph, not my idea but you were bleeding all over the place so I brought you here."

"Here?"

Nishiki rolls his eyes, aggrieved, "My house. And don't thank me. Like I said, not my idea."

He looks down at his hands which are pale and slender, as if he had never stained them red before. "Then whose?"'

The person in question chooses this moment to make her presence known in the form of a bright smile and cheery voice as she enters the room. "Kaneki-kun, you're awake! Do you feel better?"

"Hello Kimi. I'm not too sure of what happened."

She walks over and sits next to him, "Well, this idiot here - "

"Hey!" Nishiki protests.

"We all know that's a fact," Kimi winks at the half-ghoul who smiles back, and continues, "This idiot here beat you up and you weren't healing too well so he called me. When I heard of what he did, I told him to bring you here to recover. You were injured quite badly so we gave you some food from Anteiku."

"Oh, thank you for your hospitality but," he looks up, head echoing with a strange undertone, "What's Anteiku?"

He knows he shouldn't have said that when they both give him a horrified look.

Nishiki is the first to break the spell; he crouches down in front of him and says, "He's our friend, remember?"

"Oh, right! Anteiku, I remember him!" he scratches his cheek, making him look like a young boy caught red-handed by his parents for breaking the family heirloom, "Sorry, I think my injuries are quite severe and it has caused a temporary memory lost. Do you mind if I excuse myself to the washroom?"

Nishiki gives him one more searching stare before he stands up, "Just walk all the way down. Last door."

As Kaneki makes his way out of the room, he feels two pairs of eyes digging into his back.

The two older people share a look. While one was filled with worry and concern, the other holds a glint of suspicion. Within Nishiki's mind, the tiny seed of doubt planted begins to grow a shoot. He had personally witness the young half-ghoul's regenerative capabilities, watching bones meld together and skin fuse. His actions were strange, he had noticed it a few days ago but it seems that Kaneki is getting worse.

Things were supposed to be fine for him, he looked physically and mentally fit and yet…

* * *

><p><em>Stupid stupid stupid!<em> He angrily slams his palm down on the sink.

He knew he shouldn't have said that! He can't help but feel like he had failed a test or something. It was just that at that point in time, his mind was blank. Empty. Barren.

A cave ringing with

And he said the first thing that popped out of his mouth.

He lets out a huff and looks up from the sink only to see his reflections staring back at him with wide eyes, a lightning strike of shock to his system.

Just what is he?

The more he looks at himself in the mirror, the more grotesque he looks. One of his eyes is black and crimson, violent and savage in its fierce glory and that's a_ brilliant _shade of red. But the other side of his eye is a terrible thing. It's brown. It's soft and most disgustingly, it's completely human.

It's just a weak human eye with its weak vision. He's a ghoul! Why should he have it? Touka and Nishiki and that freak Tsukiyama all have beautiful mad ghoul eyes and what does he get?

A useless pathetic eye.

The cancer in his mind; growing. Himself; fading. Woven into his thoughts, darkness bleeds and pulses.

Anyway, why does he have a human eye in the first place?

From before, he is reminded of his vandalised notes and a particular sentence seems quite prominent:

_Why is the wind why is the sea why is the centipede crawling in me._

A rumble of laughter emits from the other side of the door and he frowns in annoyance, the reason why he is inside here rushing to the front of his mind.

That damn Nishiki. He had wanted to kill him but ended up almost dead in just a matter of 3 hits from him. He's disgusted with himself and angry at that bikaku ghoul at the same time.

And that girl, Kimi, was it? Always so happy and smiling all the time. When he first saw how Nishiki had looked at her, he knew that in order to get to him, he had to get to her first. And what a delight to find out that he was completely wrapped around that girl's finger. And she's even helping him. Oh, what a day!

And then comes Nishiki and his need to prove his dominance, signalling him to meet out to fight him. He was confident (too confident!) and forgot that Nishiki isn't a brawl fighter. He actually uses that degraded thing in his head for something and that's to actually think! Kaneki has a weakness, it's his speed. His reflexes are decidedly less well-honed than an average ghoul, which was strange considering that he is a full blooded ghoul. Coupled with his adherence to eat as little meat as possible (Wait, why did he think that was a good idea in the first place?), he's weak.

_Weak, weak, weak, weak, weak, weak, weak, weak, weak, weak, weak, weak, weak, weak, weak, weak , weak, weak, weak, weak, weak, weak, weak, weak, weak, weak, weak, weak, weak, weak, weak, weak, weak, weak, weak, weak, weak, weak, weak, weak, weak, weak._

And Nishiki had figured out his weakness and used it to his advantage, namely, to finish him off as quickly as possible. And he had succeeded. He can't accept that. He's not going to stand for it. He can't.

A sharp pain in his fingers makes him look down in surprise, the darkness in his head retreating momentarily.

There's blood down his forearms and blood on his chin and something that's deliciously sweet and crunchy in his mouth. He licks away the blood on his fingers and the ragged swelling on the end of them answers the question.

He'd _bitten off_ his nails.

With morbid fascination, he watches them grow back slowly, tiny bits of cells that harden and take on the pink sheen of seashells. In moments, his regrown nails sit wholly formed and healthy on his hand. He washes away the blood and swallows the last of his nails, unknowingly licking his lips throughout.

Then it hits him.

I'm human.

I'm half-ghoul.

_Half._

Gripping tufts of his hair, he anxiously pulls at them. Why does he keep forgetting details from his life? They just vanish from his mind and he reappear again but within the period of blankness, there was indifference. Peace. Normality.

A few strands of black hair fall to the floor. He feels a little sick and disgusted at himself, at how he has no control on when his thoughts deviate and warp the world around him.

"I'm sorry," he says to empty air and it should mean something that he still feels regret and can verbalise his apology, albeit not in front of those he had unwittingly hurt.

And yet, the words taste strangely sickly and flat. As if they hold no meaning, just a jumble of words strung together to complete a sentence.

_My name is Kaneki Ken and I am a half-ghoul, and I will not hurt anyone._

He repeats it again. And again. Because if you keep repeating it, some things will inevitably stick, right?

It has to.

There's an unknown entity that steals his thoughts away and slips in its own taint like poisoned water into a river. He takes a moment to compose himself, slowly but surely sliding back into his own skin and thought patterns, finding familiarity in the own grooves of his mind, synapses firing up in synchronisation.

Kaneki unlocks the door and steps out.

He walks over to them, head bowed, "Kimi, Nishiki, I'm sorry for just now. I just want to say that I remember that Anteiku is the place where I work. Sorry to worry you guys."

Relief dances in Kimi's eyes and she hugs him tightly. "It's fine, we're just glad you're okay."

He allows himself to be fussed over by Kimi and from the corner of his eye, he can see that Nishiki doesn't trust him, can see the tensing of his muscles as if he can physically rip him away from this girl.

He doesn't quite blame Nishiki.

He doesn't trust himself too.

"Kaneki-kun, will you stay over for a little longer?"

He really doesn't need to turn his head to know that Nishiki is probably vehemently – but silently – objecting to her suggestion.

His head is telling him that he had better go back home and try to bring order to his thoughts, control the wild rein of madness that gurgles and seeps into every crevice of his personality. It would be a logical and reasonable thing to do, really.

Instead, he finds himself saying, "Sure, I don't mind."

Just goes to show that he isn't the master of his head.

Not anymore.

* * *

><p>Dinner is surprisingly peaceful. As Kimi eats a bowl of noodle, she chats pleasantly with Kaneki on all matters of things with the occasional interjection from Nishiki who is rapidly comparing and dissecting how Kaneki moves, his guard on an all-time high.<p>

When Kimi takes a large bite of her food, the two ghouls try not to let their disgust show on their faces.

As Kaneki talks to her, his eyes are drawn to her neck and he can almost hear the steady beat of her heart, pumping the precious blood throughout her body.

"What do you do in your free time?" he asks, dragging his eyes away from her neck.

"Well, I like to hang out with my friends. Just like what I'm doing with you now. I've always liked heart to heart talks and having friendships grow closer from that. Actually, it'll be more accurate to say that I just like to listen."

"Yea, that's the part I like most about you," Nishiki says, a fond smile smoothing away the tension in his face. She smiles back.

Her neck is facing towards him and he's so close, so close he can just reach out and take a -

"So Kaneki-kun, what are your hobbies?"

His eyes jerk up to her face and it takes a huge amount of willpower not to throw himself out of the window and get away from them.

"Oh, I like to read and …" _Kill_ "…study literature." Knuckles whiten as his fingers wrap around the sides of his chair. "Also, I like to watch…" _You scream and beg for mercy_ "… the clouds pass by, it's really relaxing." He gives a strained smile, "It's my idea of a perfect day."

"Kaneki." The sharp tone of Nishiki's voice makes Kimi turn to him in confusion.

"What is your favourite author's name?"

A pause and then, "_Takatsuki Sen."_

_"Favourite book?"_

_"The Black Goat's Egg."_

Both of them have a face off. The tension in the atmosphere is so thick it would take a chainsaw to cut through it.

But Nishiki looks away first.

"Hmph."

Kaneki's fingers twitch.

_crack_

Throughout the confrontation, Kimi just stares in confusion at both of them, "What's wrong?"

"It might be nothing..." Nishiki begins.

"Oh, that's a relief." Kimi sighs.

"But..."

Kaneki feels his muscles tense on their own accord, fingers wrapping around the sides of the chair with the force of an anaconda constricting its prey.

_crack_

"Somehow," Nishiki continues and quicksilver gleams in his eyes even in the sweltering heat, "I don't think you're really Kaneki, are you? You're too free with your actions and your motives don't align with the Kaneki I know. Don't even think of leaving here before you answer me: who exactly are you?"

In the silence following the announcement, Kimi is the one who pipes up, "Nishiki! Stop being so rude to-"

He glances at her and something in his face makes the words dry up in her mouth.

Kaneki can tell this is the deciding moment.

For such a nuisance, Ni_shitty_ can be disgustingly observant.

Still, the lady seems to be torn and unsure.

"I...I don't understand. I'm me, Kaneki" he implores and gives his best harmless smile. "Nishiki, what are you trying to say?"

"You heard me so I'm asking again: who exactly are you?" He punctuates the last word by slamming his fist on the table. "Kimi get behind me."

For an instance, she's torn between both of them and wants to put a stop to this madness but then she catches the expression on her boyfriend's face and thinks better of it.

_crack_

She mutely stands up and walks over to him while keeping her eyes train on Kaneki the whole time.

_crack_

Nishiki's eyes bleed over with black and red, and on his leg, his kagune curls over it. Pushing Kimi out of the room, he brushes his lips against her cheek and whispers, "Run."

By nature, Kimi isn't a coward but it feels like too much of a goodbye, the way his lips briefly presses against her cheek and his hand on her back, guiding her out. She turns to catch his face, sees black and red and black and red, and beyond the shock of the moment and fear for his safety, she thinks _He's beautiful._

Then the door slams shut and the night air creeps into her lungs like an intruder. _Get help_, is the first imperative that comes to mind, followed by _bring reinforcements_. She may not be sure what's going on but she trusts Nishiki above all things and she agrees with him that Kaneki felt rather off kilter with his strangely empty gaze and finger-cracking. She just hopes that they both don't kill each other before she arrives with help from Anteiku since they are the experts on ghouls being ghouls themselves. They'll think of something. Taking a deep breath, she sets off towards the cafe, heels clattering on the cement floor.

The night is still young, a breeze ghosting around trees and sending them rustling in the cool night air. Distantly, there is the hubbub of conversations and footsteps: people making their way home after work. But here, a quick glance at the tall buildings surrounded by swaying trees shows things to be peaceful and serene.

The world is quiet here. At a nearby lake, the surface of the water ripples: a frog slides into the water just as a curious fish pushes its head out, catching a glimpse of the star speckled sky before sinking into the liquid darkness. There is just the soft brush of the wind, the faint sweet smell of flowers and the rustling of leaves in the pleasant stillness.

Now past the façade of calm, a turquoise building on the streets has a rickety staircase that creaks and groans whenever someone presses their weight down. Above that is a narrow stretch of corridors. The third door on the left, a non-descript brown door with a few scratches on the wood has a metal door knob that is chilly to the touch, a biting cold that's caused by the low temperatures of its surroundings. It turns slowly, a barely-there creak and the door swings open.

The apartment is a scene straight out of a horror movie. Blood splatters on the walls, broken furniture as well as broken lights hanging from their exposed wires, glass shards underfoot. The whole area is cast in a flickering dim as a lone bulb chokes and sputters like a guttering candle.

And in the middle of it all, Kaneki stands.

He's grinning.

_crack_

The one good thing about getting defeated by Nishitty just this afternoon was that it allowed him to realise what kind of tactics he would try to use to incapacitate him. Which is to say, not much.

_crack_

Speed is his major weakness but that can be more than accounted for with his kagune that consists of 4 tendrils. He is of the belief that if you pierce their flesh multiple times, especially in areas like the bones sockets on the shoulders and the knees to reduce mobility of the prey as well as their soft unprotected abdomen, then pretty soon all that remains is just a bloody pathetic mess at your feet.

Isn't it funny? All the strange things he's thinking?

It's actually funny.

He giggles.

He's not overtly concerned, at least, not really. With the edges of the world gently shimmering like a butterfly's wing, the lines slowly blurring and melding together, the scene feels more like a distant dream than anything else. A mirage, an illusion, a little place where things are sweetly false.

The room is black, then lit, then black again and finally, a sickly glow emits sullenly from the one remaining bulb. Throughout the whole ordeal, everything feels like a dream. Things take on a more…hazy edge. As if nothing is real. So his kagune twists and turns and he strides around and the world flexes, a gentle distortion between reality and fiction.

As he steps over the pile of flesh, he's just about to put his leg down when a hand in tattered rags closes down with a vice-like grip.

"Nishitty, let me go," he says patiently.

The hold tightens.

"Don't...kill her. She's all I...have...left..." It's the dying gasp of someone about to be welcomed into the arms of death. There is the raspy sound of air being forcefully sucked in only to languidly flow out, barely inflating collapsing lungs at all.

_crack_

"I can't have her running off to tell everyone about me, you know," Kaneki says reasonably, eyes bright and friendly in his mismatched gaze. "Sorry, but not sorry."

A kagune reaches down and snaps the hand off with a sickening crack. Even the crack sounds distant, as if heard through wads of cotton wool stuffed in his ears. He doesn't have to stop, this isn't real.

There's a muffled scream from somewhere below him but it's not really his concern now.

Black. White. Black. White. The light flickers, flickers, flickers and nothing seems concrete, everything is fluid, ever-changing, a dream within a dream.

With an effort, Nishiki slowly lifts his head, "...Kill...you."

_Crack._

Overhead, the light seems to resemble a guttering candle in a violent storm rather than the bright young thing it once was. His back itches, probably his kagune twitching against his skin but another scream accompanies the movement.

Black. White. _Red._

Nishiki may have just been imagining it or his vision is going wonky but he thinks he can see a few white strands mingling with the raven hair of the half-ghoul standing above him.

The light flickers even more erratically, the transition from colour to colour happening faster and faster.

Black, white, red, black, white, red.

"Please die like the horse crap you are," Kaneki says pleasantly and places his foot on his face, words tasting like a fizzy drink on warm summer days. The half-ghoul's vision warps again, colours leaking into one another to form a whirlpool of them and he can't help but think that it's a pretty dream.

* * *

><p>Nishiki knows that he's going to die, crushed like an ant and unknowing of why he is going to. He can't wrap his mind around what's going on. Whatever is wrong with Kaneki seems to get worse when he materialised his kagune. The way he spoke and held himself was the polar opposite of the bookworm he knows.<p>

(Soon these would be matters for the living to handle.)

Blackwhiteredblackwhiteredblackwhitered.

Flicker, flicker, flicker.

The foot on his face gradually increases in pressure and the bones on his left side ground together with the sound of gravelling pebbles. There is a loud _crack _and he feels wetness on his face, a new bolt of pain slashing through his body.

He closes his eyes and calls up a memory of Kimi. He can remember the faint curl on her lips, the brightness in her eyes, the way she'll lay her hand on his head when the nightmares come and drag screams out of his throat, she'll whisper _it'll be fine, shhh, I'm here, you're not alone alright? I'm here, Nishiki, I'm here. You're safe, I promise you. _And in the haze of delirium, he had believed that - he still does. Like she said, it'll be fine.

Blackwhiteredblackwhiteredblackwhiteredblackwhitered.

He smiles.

Black.

He's dying but somehow, if it's for her, then it'll probably be fine.

White.

The bulb finally gives out, plunging the house into absolute darkness.

_**Squish.**_

* * *

><p>The only illumination comes from the moon and it is a paltry thing, barely making a dent in the all-consuming darkness that floods the house. Maybe it's a good thing that you can't see it clearly because if anyone is stubborn enough and strains their eyes hard enough and hold their breath for long enough, they can almost catch something imperceptibly faint in the corner of their eyes:<p>

**Red.**

* * *

><p>"Kimi! Wait up!"<p>

She whips around to see Kaneki panting as he stumbles out of the alleyway she had just ran passed. The surrounding gloom made it hard to see him properly and she has to strain her eyes.

"Kaneki-kun? Where's Nishiki?" She calls out sharply. She's still not sure what's going on but this Kaneki that's limping towards her seems okay. The light in his eyes is gentle, slightly confused and warm. He's not cracking his fingers so maybe whatever bout of madness that has passed is in remission now.

"That's the thing, Kimi. He ran out of the house and I…I tried to stop him." He manages before collapsing forward. She rushes to support him and as she puts her arms around him, she realises her hands come up wet. Blood?

Coughing weakly, he explains, "Got injured by him. Have you seen him?"

She shakes her head. "Stop talking, you need to rest."

She sits him down and props him up against the wall. The dim lighting of the surroundings makes it hard to gauge what kind of injuries he has sustained but she catches sight of a large patch of dark liquid on his legs and feet, which probably means that his legs are the most affected. For him to catch her here means that he must have limped all the way here in agony this whole while.

"Kaneki-kun, I really don't understand why or even know what's going on between the ghouls and you. I'm just a human but…you know that you can trust me, right?"

Smiling faintly, he says, "Yea, I know."

She returns the smile and then looks over at his foot. "May I?"

"Sure. Be gentle, please?"

Under his watchful gaze, she carefully pokes and prods his leg as well as the other injuries on his body, noting the bloodstains and tattered clothes with professional calm for she is medical student in Kamii University and the things she has learnt pour into her mind as she catalogues the extent of damage. When she is done, she presses her lips and says nothing.

"How bad is it?" Kaneki asks weakly.

"It's…it's not bad," she looks away and grips the fabric of her skirt tightly. In a small voice, she says, "I just wish I knew how I could help you."

He opens his mouth – but she continues on, "I also wish you could have told us earlier, we could have done something to stop it somehow."

Letting out a sigh, she lifts her head to look at him, and that's when he sees them: tears. Tears sliding soundlessly down her cheeks like pearls.

"Kaneki, please live on, alright?"

In a voice devoid of any emotion, he asks, "You knew and yet here you are, still sitting and talking to me. Aren't you scared?"

She shakes her head.

When she had checked him for his injuries, she had found only small cuts and minor bruising. There were a few lacerations but they seem to be healing up pretty quickly. These minor things did not add up to the sheer amount of blood soaking his clothes. His legs were bloodied but she knew that the blood didn't come from him. She recognised the bits of pink flesh that clung between his toes. They were brain matter. And Nishiki isn't here…

_Oh, Kaneki…_

"I'm sorry we couldn't help you," she says, her voice not wavering even the slightest, the sincerity in there so true it almost physically hurts.

Kaneki studies her silently, head tilted to one side as if he is observing a particular curious specimen. Darkness shifts and digs its claws deeper within him. With a snap, his kagune flares out from his back and whips lightning-fast towards her. It yanks to a stop before her throat, the distance so close that she need only swallow and the oily band of muscle would brush against her skin.

To her credit, Kimi didn't even flinch. Her eyes were on him the whole time.

"Are you scared now?" He asks, and his voice is mild, the same tone as someone enquiring if it's going to rain today.

Kimi has lived her life quietly, always at the sides of society, kind and gentle to the people she knew and yet, still overlooked by others. When her family died and left her all alone, she was in a dark place for a long time. Like a flower starved for sunlight, she had withered, preferring to stay home under her blankets and staring sightlessly at the walls. But then she had met him, Nishiki, the bright young man and for a long time, she had been in the shadows but now she felt the Sun on her face and having experienced his warmth, she could smile and breathe again.

With him, she had bloomed, the flower that no one picked.

Her hand reaches out and both of them could see that it did not tremble. "Please live on, Kaneki. I hope you find your happiness and fight whatever is affecting you."

She knows what happened to Nishiki, she knows but instead of sinking into despair, all she feels is this light warm ball in her chest that's pulsing out a message:_ this isn't Kaneki's fault. In fact, this isn't really Kaneki at all. _A gut feeling or an instinct, whatever it is, she explicitly trusts it and that's why she's not running away. Her hands touch the sides of his face.

At her gentle touch, he stills.

It is now him who does not understand.

She's not scared, she's not screaming, she's not running. Of all the things he expects to see, this isn't one of them. All he sees in her eyes is just…pity.

He flinches then, a sudden knee-jerk reaction to this unknown and stands up abruptly, suddenly feeling like a small kid lost in big big world. Kimi's hands fall to her side as she looks up at him. The darkness shies away for a moment, before determinedly settling over his mind, coating the world with a dreamlike quality.

This is it then.

"Did Nishiki say anything before he…?" Her gaze feels too piercing, as if she could see past the black rottenness in him and found something worth saving. But he has looked, and there is nothing there.

Only darkness.

He doesn't meet her eyes, "He said your name."

In the face of impending doom, she smiles.

And he still doesn't get it.

Nishitty had to die because he knew something was off with him and well, he had to tie up loose ends. But this person…Kimi, is an abnormality. No trace of fear in her, only a strange gentle pity in her eyes. He could let her go. He really could. But he thinks that it would be a kinder mercy for her to be with Nishitty than here (but really, he just doesn't know what to make of her so the easiest thing to do was to simply make her disappear.)

She smiles as his kagune wraps around her throat. She smiles, as her feet lifts off the ground. Still she smiles, as the red band around her throat begins to tighten. She doesn't struggle, she doesn't make any noise. _ Don't blame yourself, _she mouths.

She just smiles.

Even in death, she smiles.

This is not the death of a girl who cares too much and loves too much; it is the death of a scentless flower.

He's about to throw her corpse to the side, but something within him stops him from doing so. An instinct, perhaps? From where, he's not sure.

Instead, he gently lays it down on the floor, inherently puzzled and disturbed at how she didn't put up a fight. He frowns, wrinkles forming on his forehead and he just keeps looking at the body, incomprehension written on his face.

He doesn't understand.

For a long time, he simply stares.

There was nothing for a while and then…

It…looks...somehow…familiar. Can almost recognise it, there's a name hovering on his tongue but nothing's coming out. The not-quite familiarity nudges his mind again. It's…it's….

His left pocket vibrates.

He flinches, dragged back from his murky thoughts. He pulls out his phone and reads the text from Touka: _Meet me at abandoned house near the old bridge and bring mask. Rogue ghoul attack._

Touka…He shakes his head like a dog, and that's when the darkness relinquishes it hold; the world tilts, goes fuzzy at the sides and like a sudden shockwave, the world suddenly crashes into breath-taking focus, the edges sharply defined and every whoosh of his breath and thumping of his heart sounding unbearably loud in his ears.

There seems to be something that he must remember, an anomaly whom should have run when she could. He casts his eyes around and sees a dead body in the ground, flinches at the twisted angle of her neck. His head is just so loud, thoughts crashing into one another and what's with the black, white, red that cuts into his vision and did he step on horse crap and a scream that never appeared and who is that girl with the gentle touch and his kagune is, right now he's… he just –

- Just needs to get away.

He surges up into the sky and lands on the roof in one smooth motion, gazing down at the city below him. Shakes his head rapidly and makes his way over to Touka (Touka, Touka, Touka, he tastes the name of his tongue, can't help but wonder if there is another girl's name he must remember, a girl and her partner, but nothing comes to mind. Nothing, nothing, nothing.) He flits from rooftop to rooftop, trying to blank out his mind from a confusing whirl of…dreams?

So caught up in trying to sort out his head, a song slips past his lips unknowingly:

_Incy wincy centipede crawling in me,_

_Up goes my blood and down goes my brain, _

_Out came the centipede and ate up all my pain,_

_And incy wincy centipede crawling up again!_

* * *

><p><strong>Maybe some of the more observant readers have noticed the 4 references - 1 from a book series, 1 from a poem and 2 from an animemanga - inside this chapter and yep, they're all deliberate. I decided to incorporate the references as a way of paying homage to them. :)**

**I would love to hear what you guys think about this chapter. All feedback is much appreciated!**


	3. The Abyss Beckons With a Bloody Grin

**Regarding the four references from the previous chapter, they are Series of Unfortunate Events, Soul Eater, Full Metal Alchemist and Edgar Allan Poe. In case anyone was wondering :)**

**Special thanks to my beta Charlie-the-spider for your fast and efficient beta-ing. And also to June Ellie for being my First Reader. Any remaining mistakes are mine.**

* * *

><p>In his sleep, there is blood.<p>

Blood on the walls.

There is always blood on the walls.

And a voice.

And a kagune.

A kagune dripping with blood.

Sometimes he thinks—

(no)

—he thinks—

(don't…kill her and -)

Easy, a voice says. So easy. It's just like cutting through meat.

And another voice gasps:

(...Kill...you)

It's okay. It's okay. He's weak. Ignore him. I want—

And sometimes he thinks –

(no)

he thinks –

(no please don't do this no no no don't don't)

Blood.

* * *

><p>The first thing he sees when he wakes is the clean dull green of his apartment wall. From afar, it seems as if moss is growing on it but no, that's just the natural state of his room. Green. It's supposed to be a calming colour.<p>

But he's looking at the swirl of green on his walls and it's not working. His heart is hammering in his chest and his palms are damp with sweat. His limbs are constricted by the bed sheets wrapped tight around his body and his breathing is uncontrolled. They pass hard and fast through his mouth, feels like he can't get any air in. There's something ripping and screaming behind his ribcage - is it fear? Is it sorrow? Is it hatred and disgust? But that can't be right, why would he feel any of that?

_Why?_

He gets up from his bed, notes the shakiness in his hands when he yanks the covers off and he's a little sick and dizzy with how shallowly he is breathing. His lungs just won't inflate properly.

There's something niggling in the back of his mind, a tendril of darkness latching onto a distant dream, hazy shapes and blurry outlines. Nothing concrete comes to mind. The more he tries to recall, the more a sharp ache persists behind his eyes.

Kaneki decides that if his head isn't cooperating then he might as well make a cup of coffee. Maybe that would soothe his non-existent nerves, or jerk his mind open into a total recall. He has no idea why his body is acting strange even though he just woke up.

Preparing the coffee calms him down somewhat, the tremors in his hands decreasing to just an occasional shudder. His actions are efficient and mechanical due to all the times Kaneki had done it at Anteiku. They're so simple that he doesn't have to think about what he is doing, safe in the monotony of his actions, unthinking and unhurt by the chaos in his head. It's good. It's really good. He doesn't want to think about the other things that buzz like angry locusts in his head, an indistinct swamp.

Taking in a deep breath of his freshly prepared cup, he lets out a satisfied sigh. Ah, Arabica coffee. It has a pleasantly robust aroma that is heady and strong, the silky scent of coffee loosening the tension in his shoulders. Fingers wrapped tight around the mug, he can slowly feel the warmth driving away the chill from his fingers.

Kaneki takes a slow drink, closes his eyes in pure bliss as the restorative properties of coffee takes hold, a steady pulse of warmth nestling in his chest and spreading towards his limbs.

Both he and Touka are fervent supporters of Arabica coffee and working at a cafe that sells coffee, it inevitably leads to some clashes with the other ghouls at Anteiku. Enji swears by Americano _("Best damn thing you ever drank!")_ while Kaya prefers a simple latte _("A dash of vanilla to a simple latte tastes rather lovely.") _A strong black coffee is what Yoshimura likes, judging from the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he takes a sip from it. Meanwhile, Nishiki only drinks from Blondy which had prompted Touka to comment on it once, "Guess your taste buds are as shitty as you are, huh?"

Unsurprisingly, Nishiki had turned it into an argument, "Shut up, you shitty woman. Like hell your taste is any better. Especially in men."

The glare that Touka gave him was enough to send a lesser man run screaming for his mother. As it was, not only could Nishiki be slightly thick, he just didn't know when to quit.

"What's that supposed to mean, damn Nishiki?" Touka spits.

"Please, everyone can tell that you have a soft spot for –" Further words became difficult when a table slammed straight into Nishiki's face with the force of a tsunami crashing into a shore, effectively cutting off Nishiki's words and preventing Kaneki - who was at the wrong place at the wrong time, and rapidly wishing he could just disappear - from hearing just who it was that had captured Touka's attention. Which was a pity considering he hadn't even known Touka liked anyone. Whoever it was, Kaneki just wanted to wish that person good luck.

Then, Touka had noticed his presence in the room and two spots of colour appeared on her cheeks and she had snapped at him, "What are you looking at?"

To which, he had just stammered a reply and prepared to run in case she decided she wanted to throw a table at him too.

A groan from the floor distracted Touka. Nishiki got up painfully and shot her a dirty look before limping away, but not before he brushed past him and muttered, "Good luck."

Till now, Kaneki is still unsure what Nishiki meant by that but he chalks it up to the ghoul getting hit by a table that has caused him to mumble some nonsense to himself.

Kaneki's lips twitch in memory of that particular scene and he realises that he would be meeting the brown-haired ghoul at work today. With Touka.

Working whenever their two shifts clash together is always an interesting experience. It just makes him inherently grateful that he's still alive at the end of the day. Touka might glare at him more than usual and Nishiki -

_Nishitty, let me go._

The tendril of darkness in his mind flexes, grabs hold of something solid and yanks out the blood soaked memory. There's a moment of weakness where he can't feel his limbs before he realises what he's seeing and –

_Sorry, but not sorry._

Memories come trickling back to him, slow at first, just snippets of words spoken in an alien tongue and flashes of light that suddenly mean everything and nothing all at the same time.

_Black. White. Red._

There's just so much red. On his hands and legs and dripping down everywhere.

The blurry memories shiver, and then slowly solidify, clarity growing as well as horror.

Distantly, he feels something wet trickling down his hands and he realises he has crushed the mug in his hands.

And then he remembers Nishiki's face as he pleads with him and his lips had twisted and alien words slipped through his mouth–

_Please die like the horse crap you are._

No please don't do this no no no don't _don't._ Stop thinking about this! This isn't real and please no, anything but that, anything but –

_**Squish.**_

His face is wet and he's on his knees. There's a high pitched keening noise and it takes him awhile to realise that it's coming from him. He digs his fingers in his scalp, and there's a sharp tearing pain when some of his hair is ripped out. He bites down on his fist, hard enough to draw blood but the pain isn't enough, never can be, not when he had committed a heinous crime, not when his hand was stained so so red with his friend's blood and oh god, what has he _done?_

He bites down unconsciously on his nails, _crunch crunch crunch_, the pain barely affecting him as he's thrown deeper into his mental hell. It takes only a few moments for his nails to regrow back, and when they do, they're a slightly dull pink. He swallows the bits of nails and flesh, barely tasting anything except for a brush of copper against his tongue.

And beyond the horror and guilt, beyond that lays another corpse who was once a girl who forgave too easily, reached out to someone who didn't deserve it and told him, _Don't blame yourself._

Following that was just a soft breath; the barest hint of life and the there was nothing.

Nothing at all.

He doesn't know how long he stays there, tremors travelling through his frame, eyes wide and unfocused, quick shallow breaths that does nothing to help the vortex of emotions whirling through his head. His arms are wrapped around him as if it's the only thing holding him together.

It's all his fault. And then it's not. Because it's just the -

_- Incy wincy centipede crawling in me -_

- Strange thoughts sliding around his head. Those agonising memories imprint themselves into his mind's eye, painfully sharp in clarity and he has to resist the urge to fling himself out of the window, let his soft body slam against unyielding concrete, shatter all his bones and let all the shards pierce every flesh and organ and maybe, just maybe, that would be penance enough. Or maybe not, it won't ever feel like it's enough because what he has destroyed isn't just two people whom he cherishes, but the very foundation of what he believes in:

A world that both humans and ghouls could live together happily.

Kimi and Nishiki were the ones who showed that it was possible. A peaceful world of mutual coexistence. And now…now he had taken the dream into his hands and crushed it into fine powder.

What can he say to that?

It's time he admits it to himself that the deterioration in his memories is not a small thing. It's not going to vanish without any trace one day and neither is it getting better. In fact, it has gotten worse. Yesterday he…he…he lost control of himself and (enjoyed the freedom) did something absolutely unforgivable.

His eyes flick to the side of his kitchen, landing on the knife rack almost not-quite deliberately.

Under the light, the blades glint oh-so-temptingly and in a trance, Kaneki gets up, stumbles over and grab the counter to support himself. Wraps his finger around the hilt. Draws it out slowly. Till the full metal blade is exposed.

He brings the knife to the soft pale hollow of his neck. Feels the cool metal against his fevered flesh. Places one small point of pressure, a cold spot on the vulnerable flesh of his throat.

It's almost too easy.

To.

Push.

It.

In.

He holds it there for awhile and having that control over his life, over something that he can choose and decide, makes it seem...pleasant.

Kaneki's eyes flick to the side, catching sight of his face in a small mirror hanging on the wall and he freezes.

His left eye is shrouded in liquid black, with crimson veins threading through the inky darkness. It's not his eye. It's a ghoul's eye. It's not him, it's –

And then a brainwave hits him.

Kaneki decides right there and then that what had happened so far has nothing to do with him being weak; rather it's because of his ghoul side. Slowly taking over his body and memories, a parasitic infestation of his mind and body that subjects him to relive the memory of killing his friends whenever he wakes from the clutches of it. It was never him. It was the ghoul all along.

Angling the knife away from his throat, he tilts it higher. Brings it to his left eye, the ghoul eye, the cursed eye, _I._

The blade of the knife is so thin that all he can see is just a thin trembling line against his vision. His hand is shaking and he musters all his willpower to steadies it, he can't miss this.

It is said that to deliberately harm yourself, what you need is foolishness and a complete disregard for pain. But that's not true.

Desperation is all it takes, it's all he feels.

A chance is presenting itself to him, he has to take it. He can't let this continue on any longer.

Just one fast stab. That's it. He can do this. He can just push it _in._

He readies himself, takes a deep breath and he -

"_Kaneki!"_

The door slams open with a bang and the sharp voice startles him so much that he drops the knife on the floor in surprise.

It clatters away from him and slides towards a pair of legs that come striding in.

"Kaneki, just what the fuck do you think you're doing?"

Relief as strong as a tidal wave sweeps through him at the interruption, and he looks up, manages a shaky smile, "Hello Touka."

He must look like a pathetic mess kneeling on the floor, spilled coffee staining the area, hair an absolute mess and eyes a little haunted, a little dim and murky and so far away, because Touka doesn't shout at him, doesn't insult him or beat him up for acting like a fool.

She just stands there wordlessly with an expression on her face he can't decipher. Unreadable. Unfathomable. Blank in obscurity. And that scares him.

"I er…dropped the mug," he tries, hoping to get a reaction from her. She's too still, barely breathing. Looking at him with wide eyes and behind that, an opaqueness that he can't pierce through.

"And it spilled. On the floor. Got cut on some shards and…" he trails off because he can't think of a good excuse why he was pointing a knife at his ghoul eye with the intent of gouging it out or at the very least, damaging it.

"I was about to cut some fruits and I was just checking whether it was sharp." Mentally wincing at how sad the excuse was, he waits for Touka to call him out on it. Maybe she'll start off with a "Bullshit Kaneki, tell me the fucking truth!" before knocking him unconscious or maybe she'll break his fingers one by one until he finally satisfies her with the diluted version of the truth. Of course he's not telling her what he had done exactly.

Hey, I killed Nishiki and Kimi and then I went to dance in the blood rain with you yesterday night when we killed the rogue ghoul. Uh sorry about that, think you can forgive me? And maybe think of something to stop me from getting worse or hell, you could just kill me before I end up forgetting you too?

It's still too raw, the pain still sharp and digging, and a part of him desperately wants Touka to look at him and still say 'friend' instead of 'monster'. So he keeps his mouth shut. Waits for the inevitable.

One moment he is bracing himself for the worst, the next moment there is the faint whiff of tiger lilies in the air and his arms are filled with _her._

His first thought is _Touka is hugging me_ but then he realises her hands are clutching the front of his shirt and her head is bowed so only the top of her head is pressed against his chest.

It's not a hug; it's the desperate grip of a drowning man on a float in the midst of the treacherous seas. As if she is telling herself that he is still here, solid and warm and _real._

* * *

><p>Touka couldn't sleep yesterday night. Not a wink.<p>

Yesterday night, she had paced around her room.

Kept catching herself looking out of the window for a familiar face.

Made coffee and then poured it down the sink because she couldn't keep it down.

Every time she closed her eyes, all she saw was the same manic grin on his face as his kagune spins and whirls and blood rains down the skies. The two words: _memory cannibalization_, kept blazing in her mind and she had to stop it from warping into _lost cause._

Because it's not.

It's still Kaneki and maybe he can't remember certain things in his human life but that doesn't mean that he's completely gone. It was a double whammy when she heard about Nishiki's and Kimi's deaths this morning.

She'd wanted to rage, wanted to tear down the Doves headquarters and burn them alive because who else could have killed them in such a horrendous manner? But she had to find Kaneki first, prayed that he was still here in the morning and hoped that maybe yesterday, and all the other days before that, were just a really bad nightmare that she had walked right into. But, they can go on a rampage at the Doves headquarters together, where they will put aside their differences and work together for a larger cause, even though on the day of the execution, he will always look a little lost, but that's okay because she's always making sure that that damn shithead is fine anyway. It's all part of his – typical – idiocy.

It'll be like old times again and everything bad and weird that had happened will fade away into the sidelines of her memories. Touka knew that she was just lying to herself, but she clung to it because there was nothing else left.

Out of all the things that she had pictured the state she would find him in this morning, she wasn't stupid enough to think that he would be right as rain, smiling gently and greeting her with his usual serenity. So of course, it shouldn't have been a surprise when she saw him about to have a breakdown.

Yet, catching sight of his white-lined knuckles and the knife poised above his left eye, desperation lining his features and the leftover tear tracks on his face, had sent a sharp spike of panic lancing through her heart.

She was almost too late. Almost, not quite, barely, but enough, _thank god_ it was enough. She doesn't want to contemplate what would happen if she was a second too late. It was just like him to flail and falter but the sight of him fumbling around for an excuse was a relief to her system because it was a familiar thing. She knew this.

So she's a little jittery and off-balanced, nerves shot to hell and back from the revelation of Kaneki's condition, her incessant worrying about him that lasted the whole night and now, this strangely comforting scene of Kaneki acting well…Kaneki.

She didn't think. She came in, saw Kaneki with the knife and gave in to what her brain was screaming at her from the very beginning when she caught sight of the fear in his eyes as he was about to bring the blade down.

She threw herself forward.

* * *

><p>Touka digs her fingers into the fabric of his shirt, grips tight, and she can't lift her head. Doesn't think she can deal with the relief blooming in his eyes when she managed to stop him. She just breathes in, grateful for the warmth of his body and how he doesn't push her away. If she can, she will preserve this memory in amber to withstand the test of time, so that she can relive it every time he slips away from her, only to come back changed and cracked at the edges.<p>

It's only when he places his hand on her head, runs gentle fingers through her hair does she freezes up. Her palms snap open and she forcefully shoves him away, gets up and stalks over to the opposite corner of the room because this is the comfort that he can give but she cannot accept.

His fingers are still splayed open, the movement aborted. She can't help bristling at him because there's no point lying about it; he was trying to comfort her and it annoyed her that he thought that she needed comforting. Like she was a child crying from a nightmare. Regardless, what irks her the most is that, just that one touch, that one gentle press of his hand on her head was actually reassuring god damnit.

But what use was being comforted if it didn't solve a damn thing?

The familiar pricks of anger and irritation stir within her, settling into their usual pattern whenever she deals with him.

Just like that, they're back where they started.

"What was that for?" she asks, can't summon the energy to snap at him like she wants to. It comes out empty and forlorn instead.

"Nothing." His fingers curl around thin air and he brings his hand down to his side, looks away from her. "Just nothing."

"You were out of it with the rogue ghoul yesterday and you admitted to it that you're losing your memories. It's true, right." Statement, not a question.

"You don't have to worry; I'm getting it under controlled." With that, he gives her a tight smile.

The fuck it's under controlled. She's trying to be supportive and encouraging and all he's trying to do is to push her away. Kaneki is keeping something from her, bottling it up inside of him. Only to let that thin veneer of control crack and destroy him first before he dares bleed out on others.

God damnit, Kaneki.

"What else is there? You've become different. More violent and vicious," she notices his flinch when she says that, can't help but be viciously glad that his reaction gave him away. "And you think you're being noble and all that, but really you're just being a pain in the ass."

It startles a laugh out of him, the brusque manner she says it with her arms crossed and eyes narrowed.

"It's fine, I think we're all a little tensed now. After all," he looks away, "Kimi and Nishiki are dead." Kaneki is trying to play it cool, testing the waters, wonders how much he can reveal to her before her hand of friendship is the one that stabs him in the back once she's figured out what he has done.

"…Yeah, I'm going to kill the Doves who were responsible for that."

There's a level of certainty and vengeance in her gaze that he knows that this is what she truly believes. He could tell her the truth now, open his mouth and say those earth-breaking words but it scares him to admit it that he's too far gone, that whatever Touka might try to save him would end up being pointless.

He's in it too deep.

"Don't change the subject, now tell me what are the," she makes a motion with her hands, "symptoms of your condition."

His only reply is just, "I forget some things and then I remember them afterwards. That's it."

It's a deliberate, vague and softened answer, meant to hide the true face of his memory cannibalization. There's more to it than that but the set line of his lips is a non-verbal sign to her that it's all he's going to say. Nothing more. It would be pointless to pursue it further.

Once, she had verbally assaulted him and beat him a good number of times when he had clamped shut over a particular incident involving her rabbit jacket getting stained (1), but his lips were pursed in a straight line and nothing she did had managed to pry what she wanted from him – not that she suspected him of spoiling her rabbit jacket or anything. It was just that at that point in time, he seemed like the easiest of all targets to vent her rage on, and the guilt still twinges in her chest whenever she thinks about it.

Here, guilt isn't what she's feeling. It's frustration that he's being so reluctant to tell her what he's going through. She can't help the hurt that creeps into her voice, "Are you sure that's it? Nothing else?"

She's giving him one last chance and they both know it.

The look he gives her is soft and determined. "Nothing," he says, and it feels like the blade of an executioner swinging down, cutting the conversation short.

This is what she wants to tell him, what she has always been wanting to tell him all along, keeping it bottled inside of her every time he looks a little drained and exhausted at whatever things that were haunting him, but the words get stuck in her throat instead. She can only shout it to the confines of her mind, echoing and bouncing along her skull but never able to break through: _Why won't you let me help you? I can't lose you, Kaneki. Not like how I lost my father and brother because never again will I let that happen. Can't you see you mean something to me? Can't you be a little more selfish and protect yourself? Stop caring so much about others and just dump your problems on them because we care about you too, god damnit. Look at me and tell me that your life is worthless and that you don't deserve any of us. I know that you can't do it and I know you don't believe this shit so stop acting like it already!_

But that's a bit too much, reveals things about herself to him that she never wants him to know so this is what she actually says, has to swallow a few times before she can speak, "You could try writing down what you remember, all your precious human memories. Whatever you want to never forget and keep close to your heart, write it all down and whenever you feel like you're fading, take it out and read it. Read it until you remember and know every word in there, read it until it's seared into your skin, engraved in your heart and carved into your head until you feel it in your bones and _nothing_ you do will _ever_ take it away."

She can't help the tremble in her voice as she breaks on some of the words, trips over them with all the pent up emotion welling in her chest.

Turning around, she leaves his house before he can say anything. Doesn't know what to make of the way his eyes were a muted brown throughout her speech, hands hanging loose at his sides and the sad, sad expression on his face, as if he doesn't believe that what he does now can be any help at all.

He was looking at her like he doesn't think he deserved to be saved.

She saw it and had to leave quickly, before the ragged thing in her chest escaped.

* * *

><p>As a general rule, Touka hates libraries.<p>

Thick dusty tomes crammed with ancient knowledge, the still and stuffy air making it harder to breathe the more she walked inside the depths of the slumbering beast. There are people there too, quiet and sly, watching her with glinting judgemental eyes and she feels like she doesn't belong, stuck in a place where there are things she doesn't understand as the smug books peer down at her from their perch. All their knowledge and expertise combine to form a gibberish of text that she has neither the time nor patience to go through. Whenever she encounters problems, she's more of the beat-the-crap-out-of-it-until-it-stops-moving kind of person. It suited her well in the past and she's not about to deviate from the norm.

Unless, of course, if she is feeling particularly shaken up by a particular half-ghoul, burning with the need to help him but doesn't know how to do so, does she step into the library with determination in her gaze as she braves through the stern faces of the librarians and the seemingly endless rows of books.

During the walk to the library, she has somewhat calmed down. With time to organise her head and her emotions, she's feeling okay. Not good, but better. Because she has a goal now. Something that she can work towards and invest her time and effort in, because anything is better that simply allowing Kaneki to suffer it all alone.

Her house isn't what she needs now. She may need to rest but not now. She can rest when she's dead. Her house is too quiet, has too much space, too many _memories_.

(A knock on the door, and a hesitant voice calls out, "Touka-chan, can I come in?"

She gets up from where she was hunched over her notes, stretches out her cramped fingers and opens the door.

"Yeah?"

"Ah, I heard that you were taking Classical Literature and Enji mentioned that you needed some help?" Kaneki phrase it more like a question than anything and when she doesn't answer immediately, he continued hurriedly, "I'm not saying you're bad at it or anything, I just thought if you need someone to go through with you some key points, I could always offer you my help?" It doesn't fail to escape her that he ended off with a question – again. Probably afraid that she'll see his proposal as an indirect way of hinting that she's doing badly in her studies rather than a genuine offer of help. Of course, she knows he wants to help. It's almost amusing how nervous he looks.

Touka glances back at her messy table, the crumpled pieces of paper at the corner of her desk, the jagged lines of pen ink when she was so frustrated with her inability to understand anything that she had scrawled angrily on any available surfaces. In the rubbish bin, there are a few pens that had been snapped in half out of a mixture of misdirected anger and frustration.

Then, she returns her gaze to Kaneki, the clear earnest look in his eyes freight with mild caution and she sighs, opens the door wider.

"Come in," she says, the resignation evident in her voice and Kaneki hides a smile.

All things considered, the day went rather well. Not that she'll ever tell him that she's grateful to him or anything.

Still, at the end of the study session, she asks him if he is free next week to revise through some of her other notes and he agrees immediately.)

Too many reminders of the past soaking into her furniture, coating every inch of her house that she knows she has to stay away for now. Focus on the present. Think and act. Don't feel anything. Not now.

The library is supposed to be a repository of knowledge and well, there should be something about memory cannibalization in here. So she painstakingly combs through the entire library, trawls through hundreds of shelves and comes up with a grand total of one miserable book.

The Sun has set by then, a whole day dedicated to locate more information on his condition and not only is she exhausted and dead on her feet, to make matters worse the whole thing was found in a theory book, which means that all this was just hypothetical. No actual observations, just possibilities based on theories of nature.

In her frazzled and exhausted state, the words seem to swim before her eyes, twist around each other and interweave among themselves before grudgingly settling back to their original shapes after she blinks a few times.

It says:

_Due to the apparent fragile nature of the brain, a drastic shift in personality brought about by traumatic events or foreign insertion of biological particles can alter the neural network of the brain. It is assumed that when permanent foreign biological structures integrate with the brain, it causes a chemical imbalance within the environment itself. As a result, memories - the foundation in which individual personality is shaped by - becomes corroded by the new chemical environment. Memories which are stored in the brain for a long period of time are likely to be the first to be degraded while recent memories might show a slower rate of degradation. As for memories which relates to the insertion of the foreign molecules, it should possess a particular immunity to this although the mental stability of the organism might be highly unstable. It is presumed that this process is entirely unstoppable. _

Foreign biological particles? Could be the ghoul organs that were transplanted into him. The rest basically just meant that his ghoul memories are fine; it's only his human memories that are getting degraded. In a way, memory cannibalization. The ghoul side winning over the human side.

Kaneki's mental stability is a worry to her, and she gnaws on the inside of her cheek. Today, she had just caught him about to gouge out his ghoul eye. Tomorrow, what can she expect?

She doesn't want to think about it.

At that moment, she had held on to a small spark of hope that maybe, just maybe she could save him. Find a solution in these books and eradicate the disease in his mind. Her heart had leapt in her chest in bright foolish happiness when her tired eyes caught sight of the paragraph, only to crumble when faced with the last two words: _entirely unstoppable._

She stays there and stares at it for a long time, hope having been burnt alive and all that's left is its charred skeleton in her mouth, tasting of bitter ashes.

* * *

><p>It's another day and both of them wake up in their own beds, tired and hollowed out and connected in their exhaustion. One that sinks all the way down to their bones and no matter how many times they splash their face with ice-cold water or down another cup of coffee, it's still there. Perhaps it isn't exhaustion then. More accurately, it could be because once someone has had their hopes dashed against the rocks; it would take some time to recover.<p>

But Touka and Kaneki are resilient people. They have to be.

While Touka gathers her usual façade of mild annoyance and her 'tough as nails' attitude, Kaneki stands in front of the mirror and practices smiling. These few days, it feels like his face is slowly hardening into cement, and even when he smiles, it feels strange on his face. Too wide and large, seeming to be a clown's garish grin than anything else. Certainly not his.

These days his body feels weird. Off-balanced. Limbs spasming for a moment. Quick sharp shudders that wreck his body and leave him cold and sweating. And his head. Always aching. Pounding and throbbing like a hammer smashing up his brains.

He decides to take a shower instead, hoping it will clear the fog in his mind, ease up on the tension pooling behind his eyes. When the shower spray hits his face, he is reminded, sharply and painfully and abruptly, of the hot spray of arterial blood on his face.

And the words: _Please die like the horse crap you are._

And his kagune whipping the air in frenzied motions.

And the blood.

There is always so much blood.

Always.

He must be reeking of blood and gore, his soul painted black and red with what he has done. It hangs over him like a dark miasma, can almost feel the stranglehold it has on his ribs with how difficult it is to breathe suddenly. It's not fair that he has a monster that looks out from his eyes, it's not fair that he can feel the blood dripping lukewarm down his bare hands. It's not fair that no matter how much he is scrubbing and scrubbing till it stings, and then it hurts so bad with how his skin is turning red and raw, that he can feel the coating of filth on his flesh. It's not fair that he washes his hair so many times that he pulls out some of it, stands under the hot water pounding down on his body and he _still_ feels unclean in more ways than one.

It's not fair.

He violently twists the knob to cut off the water and slides down the walls. Till his whole body is lying curled up on the floor, and the cold presses into his skin, icy-blue tendrils that drive deep into his core. He's shivering and he finds something inexplicably funny in how the steam from the water rises to fog up the mirror while he's down here feeling like his whole body has become an ice cube. He's laughing and entirely unable to stop, curled up around himself and laughing so hard his body shakes with the force of it; laughing so hard and so long that tears spring to his eyes and wretched laughter echoes in the bathroom for a long, long time.

* * *

><p>Touka fidgets in front of Kaneki's door, in a dark blue pullover and navy jeans. It's been getting chilly lately, as the winds blow in from the seas and plunges the temperature. She's visiting him again, wanting to check up on him under the disguise of inquiring whether he'll be working at Anteiku this coming week. Touka refuses to see it as one of the last times she's going to see the old Kaneki even though <em>entirely unstoppable <em>blares through her mind again and again.

_Shut it_, she thinks viciously, and stamps it down. Whether it'll remain down for good is unlikely how it simmers at the back of her mind, lying low but not forgotten.

When she finds herself hesitating to knock on his door, she thinks that things must be really bad. What is she afraid of anyway? That he'll open the door and the person who comes out will not be the person she knows? Or worse, that the door will not even open and a suspicious eye will peer out and he will ask her who is she?

_But that's bullshit!_ she wants to snap, a knee-jerk reaction to the times where she wants to deny the truth. Yet, having personally witnessed the shocking gaps in his memories, his fluid shift from his gentle personality to his more sadistic side, makes her hesitant to call it that easily. Because the possibility is very much there, very much looming on the horizon and steadily advancing and _entirely unstoppable._

Dispelling her thoughts with a quick shake of her head, she raps on the door before she gets any second thoughts and waits. Her guts squirm with a mixture of anticipation and worry at who will answer the door - if the door will even open at all. A vision of him lying in a pool of his blood, knife embedded in his eye and straight through his brain briefly flashes through her mind. Touka sucks in a breath, places a hand on the door to steady herself. He won't be that stupid, right? She desperately wishes so.

"Please wait for a moment," Kaneki - thank god it's Kaneki - calls out.

She grapples with the notion on whether to tell him what she had found in the library. Theories and postulations, just a group of old dodders in lab coats bandying about how things may work out according to the laws of nature. But there are always exceptions in everything, theories falling apart in the face of reality. She doesn't care how but Kaneki better fucking be a whole exception by himself, complete with death-defying odds and a strong will to hold onto himself because how many probabilities has he overturned when he turned into a half-ghoul? A whole fucking ton, that's what. Lady Luck better smile – heck, she better grin and load a bunch of luck and who knows what else on him because this is Kaneki she's talking about. The idiot who goes walking into the jaws of danger with his characteristic wide-eyed innocence and too much trust in this fucked up world.

Not that she minds, much.

She's been learning recently, that trust is good. Trust – or faith – that things will be fine. Has to be, if not what else is there pushing her? Definitely not because she has a soft spot for him or anything. I mean –

Further thoughts are left unaired when the door swings open and Kaneki peers in from behind the door, hair still dripping wet. "Good morning, Touka-chan."

She nods, and she does a quick look over. Touka chooses not to mention the faint purpling underneath his eyes, ink stains on his fingers and how his smile is strained slightly, as if it is physically hurting him to do so. There's a towel around his neck and he smells of the shampoo he uses, a warm and comforting scent. And beneath it all, her ghoul nose can sense a sour note underneath it. Bitter and noxious, it's the subtle scent of madness. She chooses not to make a mention on that and comments on the state of his room, a safer topic.

"What's with all the books?"

Kaneki looks back at the rows and rows of bookshelves lined with – what else? – books and turns back, "I like books."

No shit, Sherlock. I know that. "Eh," she replies for wont of anything to say. If she's feeling better, she would probably say something like, "Yea, must be why you're such a boring person." It would be said bluntly, with a raised eyebrow and Kaneki would shake his head and smile at her words, barely phased at all and pour a cup of coffee for her.

Speaking of which… "Are we going to talk out here?"

"Huh?"

She points to herself, then at where she is standing.

"Oh! Sorry, er please come in, Touka-chan." He ducks his head, neck flushing in embarrassment as he holds the door open for her. As she brushes past him, she has an urge to push back his damp hair from where they hang near his eyes. But that's a completely stupid thing to do so she doesn't.

They're on the three-seater sofa, both sipping cups of coffee and silence prevails in the atmosphere. It's not a bad silence, more of a companionable silence that sits comfortably around the room. She's sneaking glances, surreptitiously checking up on him, can't help but notes how tired he looks, from the way his hair hangs limply down his face till his slightly slumped position on the couch.

"What have you been doing at night?"

He's silent for awhile, taking a long drink as if forestalling having to answer her question.

"Writing," he eventually replies.

"A book?" She remarks sarcastically.

"Of sorts."

She's frustrated with his vague answer and some irritation seeps into her voice.

"What is it about?"

When he looks up at her, his eyes are a murky brown and she doesn't need him to tell her what he's been up to. Right now, she already knows.

She quickly looks away, one hand gripped tight in the fabric of her sweater.

"My memories," is all he says and they leave it as that.

She wishes she can take back the words the moment they leave her mouth: "Fuck it, Kaneki. If you need my help just spit it out already. Don't act like you're in this alone."

This is what Kaneki hears, "you're not alone, dumbass. Let me help."

He's tempted to, really. Break down and confess just how scared he is, terrified of losing all traces of his humanity, to be replaced by an indifferent creature whose sole purpose is to torment victims and gorge on human flesh. But to admit it to Touka? Someone whom he has but utmost respect and is a very important person in his life, should not have to deal with his mess.

It isn't self-importance that drives him. Rather, it's a twisted sort of self-sacrifice; believing that since he is the one suffering from the black thoughts, then he should not burden others with it. And it's just so Kaneki-like of him to think that he means nothing to the people who have come to care about him, that brings a sudden bark of laughter to his lips. Because as long as he can maintain his old personality, then some remnant of himself is still here, fighting to the last breath.

He's not fully changed.

He's still here and that's a relief.

Touka is frowning, confused at his sudden exclamation of laughter.

"Are you okay?"

"Yea…"

They lapse back into silence and Touka is getting frustrated. She's trying to reach out to him but all he's doing is distracting her with random laughs and barely answering her questions at all. Even as she presses him further, it feels like the thread of the conversation is slowly unravelling out of her grasp.

"I'm fine, you know. I did what you told me and I've written quite a lot of things," Kaneki says, aware of the deepening frown on Touka's face. It's just like him to think that he's worrying her and wants to allay her fears. But no, he's missing the point. The reason why Touka is frowning is because the more he pushes her away, the more she wants to grab him by the collar and demand that she be given something to do. Anything is better than simply watching the internal conflict in his eyes and he's not helping a damn bit if he's going to simply let it be. Anything is better than _entirely unstoppable_ whispering traitorously through her head.

"Hey Touka, do you want to visit my mother's grave with me?"

The question comes out of a sudden, taking her by surprise.

"Why?"

He shrugs, "Just thought I should show you."

_Before I forget about it,_ lies unsaid but not unheard, in the enfolding silence that accompanies his words.

"Oh, and I would like to give you some of my Classical Literature notes too. I think that they'll be useful for you in your studies."

And she's suddenly, utterly confused by his change in demeanour. First he subtly tells her not to worry about him, pushing her away and not divulging information. And then suddenly, he wants to share his past life and background with her? Inviting her to his mother's grave which is a whole chunk of emotional angst for him? And what's with the notes? So after you're gone, I would always have them to remember you by? Really, Kaneki? Really?

She knows she's being irrational right now. Over-thinking things and questioning his motives. But things are hectic; she barely understands what's going on in this world, much less Kaneki himself, and now she's being swept up with thoughts about Kaneki and the possibility of losing him and _he's acting like everything is normal._

She loses patience then, "Just what are you playing at, Kaneki?

Her irritation isn't caused by the fact that she has a short temper these days and an even shorter tolerance level when it comes to him. Her main problem right now is Kaneki acting like his mental dissonance means nothing at all to him and he wants things to go back to what they were previously. But how can she do that? She's still haunted by the way he looked with the knife poised above his eye and desperation leaking out from the corners of his eyes to trail a wet path down his cheeks. And knowing that Kaneki is shutting her out of his torment, only showing the milder parts of his madness and hiding the true face of what he is enduring under painful smiles that crack at the edges makes her feel –

- It makes her feel remarkably shitty.

"I'm going to the washroom." Before he can even open his mouth, she stands up abruptly and moves away, avoiding his eyes.

"…It's just at the back," comes his muted reply.

Walking down familiar hallways that she has visited before ("_seriously, what kind of green is this on your walls?"_), Touka runs a hand over the cupboards that host various knickknacks from his childhood ("_Did you make this pinwheel yourself?"_) and notices some coffee tins with the word 'Batch 9'and 'Batch 16' inscribed on some of them _("Ugh, I still can't believe you agreed to be Yoshimura's guinea pig."_) sends a sharp ache spreading through her chest. It may be nostalgia or perhaps it could be melancholy but like hell are any of these appropriate. She's not some emotionally wrought damsel and she can walk down his hallway without being overwhelmed by a rush of memories. She's not that weak. She squares her shoulders and focuses on the last door, making her way as quickly as possible.

She shuts the door and leans against it.

She's reminded again, that she is teetering on a precipice, where one wrong move will have her plunging down, damn her good intentions. The truth is that right now, she has no idea what to do, no fucking clue on how to handle this. Every time she thinks she can pinpoint what's wrong with him, maybe pull him back from the abyss eating away at his memories, every time she thinks that maybe, just maybe there's a way out of this, she catches sight of the _wrongness_ in his eyes. How strained and painful it is to keep up the pretenses of how much he's not hurting inside.

But he is. Badly.

Touka bites back a sound in her throat, the way it thrums and keens in her chest, aching with worry and sorrow. The tightness around her lungs seizes; hard.

It takes her some time to just breathe through her nose, inhale deep and exhale slow before she collects herself, draws her cloak of invulnerability around her stuttering heart and steps out.

She heads back to the room -

- only to be confronted with Kaneki's whole body tensing up when she steps into his line of vision.

The fact that he is looking directly at her only makes it worse when she sees it. There is a terrible _terrible_ emptiness in his eyes that reflects back cruelly in all its honesty.

"W-w-who are you?"

Touka's heart stops.

* * *

><p>Footnotes:<p>

Rabbit jacket incident: minor incident that occurred with Touka's jacket getting stained with coffee. Further details on who the culprit is can be found in chapter 4 of my other TG fic 'How to Love a Broken Thing'. Note that it's a oneshot so only that incident is in the same universe of The Centipede's Sting, should anyone be interested.

* * *

><p><strong>Take a deep breath. Look out the window. Call some friends. Eat a sandwich. Laze around the beach. Play a game. Relax. Now look back. Look back at the last part of this chapter, think of the implications of what had just happened, what will happen and what it means for Kaneki and Touka who have been through so much together and -<strong>

**_C-C-Crack._**

**Yep, that's the sound of hearts splintering. Not sure if yours or mine. Might be both.**

**Don't forget to leave a review. I get to devour human souls with them. They're delicious. **


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